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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


GIKT 


Received 
Accession  No. 


J  rO^U^ 


^  (o    .    Class  No. 


\ 


OF  TMK 

UNIVERSITY 


adame  Whitney's  Housekeeping, 


HISTORICAL   SERIES— BOOK  I 


G-EANDFATHEE'S 


STOEIBS 


COMPILED   AND    AKRANGED 

BY    JAMKS    JOHOJS'NOT 


NEW  YORK  •:•  CINCINNATI  •:•  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN    BOOK    COMPANY 


TG 


COPYRIGHT,  1889, 
BY  D.  APPLETON   AND   COMPANY. 


TO  THE  CHILDREN. 


THIS  new  book  is  full  of  stories,  and 
I  think  you  will  like  them.  If  you 
find  a  hard  word  that  you  do  not 
quite  understand,  ask  your  teacher 
or  som^  friend  what  it  means,  and 
in  a  short  time  you  will  be  able  to 
read  all  the*  stories  here  given. 
You  will  enjoy  them  all  the  more 
because  you  will  have  to  study 
and  work  to  find  out  what  they 
mean.  The  first  stories  you  will  read  tell  of  things 
that  never  happened,  but  are  made  up  to  teach 
something.  They  are  called  Fables.  After  read- 
ing them,  see  if  you  can  tell  what  they  teach. 

Then  come  stories  from  fairy-land,  which  are 
very  amusing.  Of  course,  the  animals  and  birds 
never  spoke  as  the  stories  tell  of  them,  but  every 
one  likes  to  read  them,  they  are  so  pleasant  and 
strange.  The  next  stories  tell  of  giants  and  pyg- 


4:  TO   THE  CHILDREN. 

mies,  and  other  wonderful  things.  They  are  called 
Myths.  People  in  the  old,  old  time  believed  these 
stories,  but  we  now  know  they  are  not  true. 

Then,  again,  there  are  stories  like  that  of  our 
old  friend  Dick  Whittington,  in  part  true,  but 
which  are  so  old  that  we  do  not  know  exactly 
how  much  of  them  to  believe.  They  are  called 
Legends,  and  are  the  special  delight  of  children. 
But  best  of  all  are  the  true  stories,  telling  of 
things  that  really  happened.  Many  of  these  stories 
are  as  wonderful  and  strange  as  the  myths  and 
stories  from  fairy-land.  When  we  read  them  it  is 
like  finding  new  friends,  and  you  never  need  grow 
lonesome  wThen  you  know  so  many  real  people  in 

books. 

GRANDFATHER, 


CONTENTS. 


FABLES. 

PAGE 

I.  The  Wolf  and  the  Kid.  . . , 7 

II.  The  Fox  and  the  Stork ...  9 

III.  The  Town  Mouse  and  the  Country  Mouse 11 

IV.  The  Vain  Jackdaw 14 

V.  Spot  and  her  Friends 15 

STORIES   OF  FAIRY-LAND. 

VI.  The  Musicians  of  Bremen 20 

VII.  King  Wren 24 

MYTHS. 

VIII.  The  Pygmies 29 

IX.  The  Golden  Touch , 33 

LEGENDS. 

X.  King  Henry  and  the  Miller 45 

XI.  Dick  Whittington  and  his  Oat 54 

XII.  King  Alfred  and  the  Cakes 59 

XIII.  Knighting  of  the  Beef 62 

HOME  STORIES. 

XIV.  Madame  Whitney's  Housekeeping 64 

XV.  The  Boston  Boys 69 


6  CONTENTS. 

PA.GB 

XVI.  Washington  and  the  Horse 71 

XVII.  Our  Grandmothers  at  School 74 

XVIII.  The  Boston  Tea-Party 81 

XIX.  The  Young  Blacksmith 85 

XX.  Rebecca  the  Drummer 88 

XXL  Daniel  Webster  as  a  Boy 97 

FOREIGN   STORIES. 

XXII.  A  Story  of  Cervantes 100 

XXIII.  The  Boy  who  took  a  Boarder 103 

XXIV.  Columbus  at  the  Convent 109 

XXV.  The  Angel  of  the  Camp 112 

XXVI.  A  Night  in  the  Snow 117 

XXVII.  An  Old  Veteran ,    ...  122 

XXVIII.  A  Snow  King 126 


FABLES. 


I -THE  WOLF  AND   THE  KID. 


If  AID  a  goat  to  a  kid  : 
"  If  you  do  as  you're  bid, 
You   need   never  have   cause 

for  alarm ; 
But  if  you  neglect, 
And  my  counsel  reject, 
You  surely  will  come  to  some  harm. 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

2.  "  To  market  I  go, 

So  mind  what  you  do : 
If  any  one  knock  at  the  door, 

Don't  pull  up  the  latch, 

Lest  mischief  you  catch, 
But  look  out  of  the  window  before." 

3.  A  wolf,  which  had  stood 
At  the  edge  of  the  wood, 

Now  hastened  to  knock  at  the  door ; 

And  said  with  voice  thick, 

"  The  door  open  quick, 
Let  me  into  the  kitchen  once  more." 

4.  The  kid  thought,  of  course, 
That  its  mother  was  hoarse, 

And  its  hand  on  the  door-latch  it  laid ; 

When  the  mother's  advice 

Came  back  in  a  trice, 
And  it  peeped  through  the  window  insteadc 

5.  The  wolf  stood  without, 
Thinking  kid  would  come  out, 

When  a  hunter  came  by  with  a  dog ; 

He  set  off  on  a  run, 

But  a  shot  from  the  gun 
Stretched  him  dead  by  the  side  of  a  logc 


FABLES. 

6.  The  kid  made  all  snug, 
And  laid  down  on  a  rug, 

And  nibbled  some  grass  from  the  farm ; 
And  the  goat  coming  back, 
Found  the  wolfs  recent  track, 

But  the  little  one  safe  from  all  harm. 

7c  Now,  boys,  and  girls  too, 

Mind  what  you  do : 
Copy  kid  when  curled  up  on  the  floor ; 

Mamma's  counsel  alway 

Do  your  best  to  obey, 
And  no  wolf  will  come  in  at  the  dooi\ 


II.-TRE  FOX  AND   THE  STORK. 

1.  The  fox  once  invited  the  stork  in  a  friendly 
way  to  dinner.  "  Neighbor,"  said  he,  "  IVe  had  a 
stroke  of  luck  lately,  and  the  pottage  shall  be  the 
better  for  it."  The  stork  accepted,  and  went  in 
good  time,  but  when  the  dinner  came  to  the  table 
it  proved  to  be  soups  and  sauces  of  various  kinds, 
served  up  in  broad,  shallow  dishes.  The  poor 
stork  could  only  dip  in  the  very  end  of  her  bill, 
and  could  in  no  way  satisfy  her  hunger. 


10 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


2.  The  fox  lapped  the  food  up 
very   readily    with     his     tongue, 
and     every     now 

and  then  asked 
his  guest  how 
she  liked  the  din- 
ner, hoped  that 
everything  was 
seasoned  to  her 
taste,  and  declared  that  he  was  very  sorry  to  see 
her  eat  so  little.  The  stork,  seeing  the  joke,  took 
no  notice  of  it,  but  pretended  to  like  every  dish 
very  much,  and  at  parting  urged  the  fox  so  ear- 
nestly to  return  her  visit  that  he  could  not  refuse. 

3.  The  day  arrived,  and  so  did  the  fox.     "  My 

dear   stork,"   said  he,  "1  have 
brought   an  excellent  appetite, 
and  I  can  tell,  from  the  steam 
of  your  kitchen,  that  you  have 
a  fine    dinner."      But    to    his 
great        dis- 
gust,     when 
dinner      ap- 
peared,     he 
found   it 
"l  "^  consisted 


FABLES.  11 

of  minced  goose,  served  up  in  long-necked 
glasses.  The  stork  thrust  in  her  slender  bill 
and  helped  herself  plentifully,  then,  turning  to 
Reynard,  who  was  eagerly  licking  the  outside 
of  a  dish,  where  some  sauce  had  been  spilled, 
"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  she,  smiling,  "  that  you 
seem  to  have  so  good  an  appetite.  I  hope  you 
will  make  as  hearty  a  dinner  at  my  table  as  I  did 
the  other  day  at  yours."  Reynard  hung  his  head, 
and  looked  very  much  displeased.  "  Nay,  nay," 
said  the  stork,  "  do  not  lose  your  temper ;  they  that 
can  not  take  a  jest  should  never  make  one." 


Ill -THE  TOWN  MOUSE  AND   THE  COUNTRY 
MOUSE. 

1.  A  country  mouse,  a  plain,  sensible  sort  of 
fellow,  was  once  visited  by  a  former  friend  of 
his,  who  lived  in  a  neighboring  city.     The  coun- 
try mouse  put  before  his  friend  some  fine  peas, 
some    choice   bacon,    and   a   bit   of   rare    cheese, 
and  called  upon  him  to  eat  heartily  of  the  good 
food. 

2.  The  city  mouse  nibbled  a  little  here  and 
there   in    a   dainty   manner,    wondering    at    the 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


pleasure  his  host  took  in  such  coarse  fare.  In 
their  after-dinner  chat  the  town  mouse  said  to  the 
country  mouse,  "Come  now  with  me,  this  very 

night,     and     see     with 
your  own  eyes  what  a 
life  I  lead." 

3.  The     country 
mouse         con- 
sented, and,  as 
soon     as     it 
fell  dark,  off 
they  started 


for  the 

city,  where  they 
arrived  , 
just  as  a 
splendid 
supper,  giv- 
en   by   the 
master      of 
the     house, 
where      our 
town    friend 
lived,  was  over. 


FABLES.  13 

4.  The  city  mouse  soon  got  together  a  heap  of 
dainties  on  a  corner  of  the  handsome  Turkey  carpet. 

5.  The  country  mouse,  who  had  never  even 
heard  the  names  of  half  the  meats  set  before  him, 
was  thinking  where  he  should  begin,  when  the 
room-door  creaked,  opened,  and  in  entered  a  serv- 
ant with  a  light. 

6.  The   companions    ran   off,   but,   everything 
soon  being  quiet    again,   they  returned    to  their 
feast,  when  once  more  the  door  opened,  and  the 
son  of  the  master  of  the  house  came  in  with  a 
great  bounce,  followed  by  his  little  terrier,  who 
ran  sniffing  to  the   very  spot  where  our  friends 
had  just  been. 

7.  The  city  mouse  was  by  that  time  safe  in 
his  hole — which,  by -the -way,  he  had  not  been 
thoughtful  enough  to   show   to  his    friend,  who 
could  not  find  a  better  shelter  than  a  sofa,  behind 
which  he  waited  in  fear  and  trembling  till  it  was 
quiet  again. 

8.  The  city  mouse  then  called  upon  him  to 
resume  his  supper,  but  the  country  mouse  said: 
"  No,  no  ;  I  shall  be  off  as  fast  as  I  can.     I  would 
rather  have  a  crust,  with  peace  and  quietness,  than 
all  your  fine  things  in  the  midst  of  such  alarms 
and  frights  as  these." 


GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 


IV -THE  VAIN  JACKDAW. 

FINE  feathers,  Jack  thought,  make  fine  fowls  r 
I'll  be  envied  of  bats  and  of  owls. 

But  the  peacock's  proud  eyes 

Saw  through  the  disguise, 
And  Jack  flew  the  assembly  of  fowls. 


FABLES. 


15 


V-SPOT  AND  HER   FRIENDS. 

1.  To  the  yard  by  the  barn  came  the  farmer  one 

morn, 

And,  calling  the  cattle,  he  said : 
While  they  trembled  with  fright,  "  Now  which 

of  you  last  night 

Shut  the  barn-door  while  I  was  abed  ? " 
Each  one  of  them  all  shook  his  head. 


2.  Now  the  little  calf,  Spot, 
she  was   down  in   the 
lot; 
And    the    way   the    rest 

talked  was  a  shame ! 

For  no  one,  night  before,  saw  her  shut  up  the 
door; 


16 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


FABLES.  17 

But  they  said  that  she  did,  all  the  same— 
For  they  always  made  her  take  the  blame. 

3.  Said  the  horse  (dapple  gray),  "  I  was  not  up 

that  way 

Last  night,  as  I  now  recollect " ; 
And    the    bull,  passing   by,  tossed  his   horns 

very  high, 

And  said,  "  Let  who  may  here  object, 
I  say,  'tis  that  calf  I  suspect." 

4.  Then  out  spoke  the  cow,  "  It  is  terrible  now 
To  accuse  honest  folks  of  such  tricks  ! " 

Said  the  cock  in  the  tree,  "I'm  sure  'twasn't 


me": 


And  the  sheep  all  cried,  "  Baa  ! "  (there  were 

six), 
"  Now  that  calf's  got  herself  in  a  fix  ! " 

5.  "  Why,  of  course  we  all  knew  'twas  the  wrong 

thing  to  do," 
Said   the    chickens.       "Of    course,"    said    the 

cat. 
"  I  suppose,"  cried  the  mule,  "  some  folks  think 

me  a  fool, 

But  I'm  not  quite  so  simple  as  that ; 
The  poor  calf  never  knows  what  she's  at.'' 


18  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

6.  Just  that  moment  the  calf,  who  was  always  the 

laugh 

And  the  jest  of  the  yard,  came  in  sight. 
"  Did   you    shut   the   barn-door  ? "    asked    the 

farmer  once  more. 
"  I  did,  sir ;  I  closed  it  last  night ! " 
Said    the    calf,    "and    I    thought    that     was 

right." 

7.  Then  each  one  shook  his  head;  "  She  will  catch 

it,"  they  said ; 
"Serves      her     right      for     her     meddlesome 

way ! " 
Said  the  farmer :  "  Come  here,  little  bossy  ?  my 

dear ; 

You  have  done  what  I  can  not  repay, 
And  your  fortune  is  made  from  to-day. 

8.  "For  a  wonder,    last  night  I  forgot  the  door 

quite  ; 

And,  if  you  had  not  shut  it  so  neat, 
All  my  colts  had  slipped  in,  and  gone  right  to 

the  bin, 

And  got  what  they  ought  not  to  eat ; 
They'd     have     foundered     themselves      upon 

wheat." 


FABLES, 


19 


9.  Then  each  hoof  of  them  all  began  loudly  to 

bawl ; 

The  very  mule  smiled,  the  cock  crew, 
"Little  Spotty,  my  dear,  you're  a  favorite  here/' 
They  cried  ;  "  we  all  said  it  was  you — 
We  were  so  glad  to  give  you  your  due ! " 
And  the  calf  answered,  knowingly,  "  Boo  ! " 

Ptiwbe  Gary. 


STORIES    OF    FAIRY-LAND. 


VI -THE  MUSICIANS  OF  BREMEN. 

»te^Mt"  ite 


1.  A 
certain 
man    had    a 

a 

donkey      that 
had   become    so 
old   as   to   be  un- 
fit   for    work  ;     so 
his  master  said  he 
must    take    off     its 
skin.      The    donkey 
heard  this,  and   ran 
awaytowardBremen, 
where,  he  thought, 
he   would   become 
town  musician.  When 
he  had  run  some  way, 
he  found  a  hound  ly- 
ing by  the  road-side. 


STORIES  OF  FAIRY-LAND.  21 

.  2.  "  What  is  the  matter  ? "  said  the  donkey, 
"  Ah ! "  replied  the  hound,  "  I  am  growing  older 
and  weaker  every  day.  My  master  has  turned  me 
out,  and  I  do  not  know  how  to  earn  my  bread." 

3.  "  Well,"  said  the  donkey,  "  I  am  going  to 
Bremen  to  become  town  musician ;  come  with  me, 
and  play  the  drum ! "     The  dog  agreed,  and  off 
they  went. 

4.  Soon  they  came  to  a  cat,  with  a  very  long 
face,  sitting  in  the  path.     "  Now,  old  shaver,"  said 
the  donkey,  what  is  the  trouble  with  you ? "     "I 
am  getting  old,  and  my  teeth  are  worn  short,"  re- 
plied the  cat,  "  and  my  mistress  this  morning  tried 
to  drown  me,  and  I  ran  away.     Now  I  am  here, 
but  do  not  know  where  to  go." 

5.  "  Go  with  us  to  Bremen,"  said  the  donkey, 
"  You  can  make  night-music."     So  the  three  went 
on  together.      They  soon   came   to   a  farm-yard, 
where  they  heard  a  rooster  crowing  with  all  his 
might. 

6.  "Come,    old  red-comb,"   said    the   donkey, 
"  what  makes  you  crow  so  loud  ? "     "  The  cook  is 
to  cut  off  my  head,  so  as  to  make  soup  of  me  to- 
morrow," said  the   rooster.      "You  have  a  good 
voice,  go  with  us  to  Bremen,"  said  the  donkey. 

7.  The  rooster  agreed,  and  all  four  went  on 


22  GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 

together.  They  could  not,  however,  reach  Bremen 
in  one  day,  and  they  turned  into  the  forest  to  pass 
the  night. 

8.  The    donkey  and  dog  lay    down    under  a 
large  tree  ;  the  cat  and  the  rooster  climbed  up  into 
the  branches,  the  latter  the  higher,  where  he  was 
most   safe.     Before   he  went   to  sleep  he  looked 
round  and  saw  a  light  at  a  distance.     So  he  called 
his  companions  and  they  all  went  off  together. 

9.  They  found  the  light  came  from  the  cottage 
of  a   robber.     The  donkey  went  to  the  window 
and  peeped  in.     "What    do  you    see,  old  gray- 
horse?"  asked    the    rooster.     "A  table    laid  out 
with  food   and  drink,"  said   the   donkey.     Then 
the  friends  laid  a  plan  to  drive  the  robbers  away. 

10.  The  donkey  placed  his  feet  upon  the  win- 
dow-ledge, the    hound    got  on  his  back,  the  cat 
climbed  upon  the  hound,  and  the  rooster  flew  up 
and  perched  upon  the  head  of  the  cat.     Then  the 
music    began :    the    donkey   brayed,    the   hound 
barked,  the  cat  mewed,  and  the  rooster  crew ;  and 
they  made  such  a  noise  that  the  robbers  fled  as 
though  Old  Nick  was  after  them. 

1 1.  The  friends  sat  down  to  the  table,  and  soon 
they  cleared  it.    Then  the  donkey  lay  down  upon 
some  straw,  the  hound  curled  up  behind  the  door? 


STORIES  OF  FAIRY-LAND.  23 

the  cat  stretched  out  on  the  hearth,  and  the  rooster 
flew  up  to  a  high  beam. 

12.  After  a  while  one  of  the  robbers  went  back 
to  see  what  was  the  matter.     He  went  into  the 
kitchen  to  strike  a  light,  and  he  mistook  the  cat's 
eyes  for  live  coals.     The  cat  flew  at  his  face,  spit- 
ting and  scratching,  so  he  turned  and  made  for 
the  back  door.     But  the  hound  bit  his  leg,  and 
the  donkey  gave  him  a  powerful  kick.     Then  the 
rooster    clapped   its   wings    and    cried,    "  Cock-a- 
doodle-doo  ! " 

13.  Then  the  robber  ran  back  and  said  to  his 
captain :     "  O    my   master,    there    is    a   dreadful 
witch  in  the  house,  who  spat  on  me,  and  scratched 
my  face  with  her  long  nails ;  then  before  the  door 
stood  a  man  with  a  knife,  who  chopped  at  my  leg ; 
and  in  the  yard  there  lies  a  black  monster,  who 
beat  me  with  a   great  club ;  and  upon  the  roof 
sits  a  judge,  who  called  out,  '  Bring  the  knave  up, 
do!'" 

14.  After  this  the  robbers  dared  not  go  near 
the  house  again,  and  the  town  musicians  of  Bremen 
had  a  good  home  all  their  lives. 


GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 


VII -KING  WREN* 

1.  A  long  time  ago  the  birds  decided  that 
they  must  have  a  king,  and  would  choose  one 
among  themselves. 


2.  All   agreed   to   the   plan   but   the   plover. 
Free  I  have  lived  and  free  will  I  die  !  "  he  said. 


B  R  A  R  y^S, 
SITY  V 
:^/ 
STORIES  OF  FAIRY-LAND.  25 

and  so  flew  angrily  away,  crying,  "  Where  shall  I 
rest  ?  where  shall  I  rest  ? "  He  flew  on  until  he 
came  to  a  distant  swamp,  and  there  he  stayed 
away  from  his  brother  birds. 

3.  The  other  birds  began  to  carry  out  their 
plan,  and  one  fine  May  morning  they  all  met  in  a 
grove  on  the  banks  of  a  beautiful  lake. 

4.  There  were  eagles  and  finches,  the  owls  and 
the  crows,  the  larks  and  the  sparrows.     I  can  not 
name  them  all,  but  even  the  cuckoo  came,   and 
also  a  very  small  bird,  who  as  yet  had  no  name. 

5.  The  hen,   who  had  heard  nothing  of   the 
affair,  wondered  at  the  immense  crowd.     "  Wat, 
wat,  wat  is  all  this  ? "  she  cackled,  but  the  rooster 
comforted  her  by  telling  her  what  it  all  meant. 

6.  It  was  decided  that  he  should  be  king  w^ho 
could  fly  the  highest,  and  thereupon  a  green  frog 
who  sat  in  the  bushes  began  to  croak,  "Natt,  natt, 
natt,  natt,"  because  he  thought  there  would  be 
many  tears  shed.     But  the  crow  cried  out :  "  Back, 
croaker !     Everything  must  be  quiet." 

7.  It  was  next  decided  that  the  trial  should 
be  made  at  once,  because  it  was  such  a  fine  morn- 
ing, and  then  no  one  could  say,  "I  could  easily 
have  flown  much  higher,  only  that  night  came  on 
and  prevented  me." 


96  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

8.  At  a  given  signal,  all  the  birds  mounted  in 
the  air ;  and  as  they  sailed  away,  it  looked  as  if  a 
big  black  cloud  was  forming. 

9.  The  small  birds  soon  fell  back,  for  they 
could  not  fly  far,  so  they  alighted  on  the  ground 


again. 


10.  The  larger  birds  kept  it  up  longer,  but 
none  of  them  like  the  eagle,  who  soared  so  high 
that  he  almost  touched  the   sun.     Then  he  saw 
that  he  was  far  above  the  others,  and  he  said  to 
himself :  "  Why  need  I  fly  any  higher  ?     I  am  cer- 
tainly  the   king."     So    saying,   he    began    to   fly 
downward. 

11.  When   he   alighted,   the  birds  all    cried: 
"  You   must   be   our   king !     Nobody   has   flown 
higher  than  you." 

12.  "Except  me,"  cried  the  little  bird  with- 
out a   name,   who   had   hid    himself   among   the 
feathers  on  the  eagle's  back.     "  When  the  eagle 
was  at  his  greatest  height,  I  flew  still  higher.     I 
am  king  !     I  am  king  ! " 

13.  You  our  king?"  said  the  other  birds  in  a 
rage.     "  We  shall  not  allow  your  cunning  to  win." 

14.  They  then   made  the   condition   that   he 
should  be  king  who  should  fall  deepest  into  the 
earth. 


STORIES  OF  FAIRY-LAND.  27 

15.  How  the   goose   swam   cackling   to   land 
with  her  broad  breast !     How  quickly  the  rooster 
grubbed  a  hole ! 

16.  The  duck  went  boldest  to  work,  for  she 
jumped  into  a  ditch,  but  in  so  doing  sprained  her 
foot,  and  waddled  away  to  the  nearest  pond,  cry- 
ing, "  Bad  work,  bad  work  !  " 

IV.  But  the  little  bird  without  a  name  found 
a  mouse-hole,  into  which  he  crept,  and  called  out 
in  his  piping  voice,  "  I  am  king  !  I  am  king  !  " 

18.  "You  our  king?"  cried  the  other  birds, 
fiercely ;  "  do  you  think  your  trickery  shall  gain 
for  anything  ? "     They  then  resolved  to  keep  the 
poor  bird  in  the  hole  and  starve  him. 

19.  The  owl  was  set  to  keep  guard  during  the 
night,  and  forbidden  to  let  out  the  prisoner  on 
pain  of  death. 

20.  The  other  birds,  who  were  weary  with  so 
much  flying,  went  home  to  their  nests  with  their 
wives  and  children,  leaving  the  owl  alone  by  the 
mouse-hole,  staring  into  it  with  both  his  eyes. 

21.  By-and-by  the  owl  began  to  feel  tired,  and 
thought  that  one  eye  would  do  to  watch  the  evil 
thing,  while  he  slept  with  the  other. 

22.  Soon  the  little  bird  peeped  out,  but  the 
owl   saw  him    and   drove  him    back.     Then  the 


28 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


owl  began  to  close  first  one  eye,  and  go  to  sleep 
with  that  and  then  the  other,  and  so  he  intended 
to  pass  the  whole  night,  but,  unluckily,  he  once 
forgot  to  open  the  one  eye  when  he  shut  the 
other,  and  so,  going  to  sleep  with  both,  the  little 
bird  was  able  to  escape. 

23.  From  this  time  the  owl  dares  not  show 
himself  by  day  for  fear  of  the  other  birds.     He 

flies    now    only   by 
night,  and    hunts 
the  poor  mice, 
because     a 
mouse-hole 
brought    him    into 
disgrace. 

24.  The    little    bird, 
too,  was  afraid  to  vent- 


^-f>' 

WW  '  —^  ^  +U 

l\2  ^$^  ure  among  the  others, 

so  he  concealed  himself 

in  the  hedges,  and  when  he  thought  himself  quite 
safe,  he  called  out,  "  I  am  king !  I  am  king !  " 
Therefore  the  other  birds  called  him  "hedge- 
king  "  in  scorn,  and  that  means  the  wren. 


VIII -THE  PYGMIES. 


lo  A  great  wrhile  ago, 
when  the  world  was  full 
of  wonders,  there  lived  an 
earth-born  giant  named  An- 
rn  taeus,  and  a  million  or  more  of 
curious  little  earth-born  people  who 
were  called  pygmies.  The  giant  and 
the  pygmies  both  being  children  of  our 
old  mother,  Earth,  were  all  brethren,  and  dwelt 
together,  in  a  very  friendly  way,  far  off  in  the 
middle  of  hot  Africa.  The  largest  of  the  pygmies 
was  only  about  six  inches  high,  while  Antaeus  was 
so  very  tall  that  he  carried  about  a  large  pine- 
tree  as  a  walking-stick. 

2.  While  Antaeus  was  friendly  with  his  little 
neighbors,  he  was  fierce  and  cruel  to  other  people, 
and,  when  any  one  came  into  the  pygmy  country, 
he  was  driven  back  or  killed  by  a  blow  from  the 
terrible  pine-tree.  One  day  the  Greek  hero,  Her- 
cules, happened  to  cross  the  country,  on  his  way 


30  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

to  the  garden  of  Hesperides,  where  grew  the 
golden  apples.  At  once  Antaeus  flew  into  a 
great  rage,  and  went  at  Hercules  with  his  pine- 
tree.  But  Hercules  carried  a  club  much  stronger 
than  the  pine-tree.  After  a  terrible  battle,  An- 
taeus was  killed,  and  the  hero  lay  down  to  rest 
and  went  to  sleep. 

3.  The  pygmies  loved  their  big  brother  An- 
taeus, and  they  resolved  to  avenge  his  death.     So, 
while  Hercules  slept,  the  whole  nation  came  to- 
gether to  decide  what  they  should  do.     One  want- 
ed to  challenge  Hercules  to  fight  with  him  with 
swords,  but  the  others  thought  it  would  be  safest 
to  kill  him  before  he  awoke.     But  how  were  they 
to  do  this  ?     They  could  not  climb  up  on  him  as 
he  lay  there  snoring,  and  their  arrows  would  not 
prick  through  his  skin.     Besides,  if  any  of  them 
came  in  the  way  of  Hercules'  breath,  he  was  blown 
away,  and  tumbled  heels  over  head.    After  a  while 
they  agreed  to  burn  him  up.     So  the  whole  army 
gathered  sticks,  straws,  and  dry  grass,  and  piled  it 
up  under  Hercules'  head.     Then  all  the  archers 
were  placed  so  as  to  let  fly  at  their  enemy  as  soon 
as  he  awoke. 

4.  The  pile  of  straw  was  then  set  on  fire,  and 
Hercules  started  up  with  his  hair  in  a  blaze.    Then 


32  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

twenty  thousand  archers  sent  their  arrows  straight 
at  the  hero's  face.  While  still  half-asleep,  he  put 
out  the  fire  in  his  hair,  and  he  thought  a  swarm 
of  mosquitoes  had  flown  in  his  face.  Then  he 
looked  about  him,  and  at  last  discovered  the  pyg- 
mies, and  he  picked  up  one  of  them  and  held  him 
out  in  his  hand. 

5.  "  What  in  the  world,"  said  Hercules,  "  may 
you  be ? "     "I  am  your  enemy,"  said  the  pygmy ; 
"  you  have  killed  our  brother  Antaeus,  and  I  chal- 
lenge you  to  fight  with  me ! "     Hercules  was  so 
tickled  with  the  pygmy's  big  words  that  he  could 
not  help  laughing,  and  came  near  dropping  the 
little  fellow  off  his  hand.     "  Upon  my  word,"  said 
he,  "  I  have  seen  wonders  before,  but  nothing  like 
this.     Here  is  a  little  fellow,  not  larger  than  my 
finger,  with  a  soul  as  big  as  my  own  ! " 

6.  So  Hercules   carefully  put  the   little   man 
down,  and,  turning  to  the  whole  nation,  he  said : 
"  My  good  little  people,  I  would  not  injure  you 
for  the  world.     I  ask  for  peace.     Ha !   ha !   for 
once  I  am  beaten."    So  saying,  he  carefully  picked 
his  way  so  as  not  to  crush  any  of  the  little  folks, 
and  went  on  his  journey  to  find  the  golden  apples. 


MYTHS.  33 

IX -THE  GOLDEN  TOUCH. 

1.  Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  king  whose 
name  was  Midas.     He  had  one  daughter,  a  little 
girl  whom  he  dearly  loved,  and  her  name  was 
Marygold. 

2.  King  Midas  was  fonder  of  gold  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  world,  unless  it  was  this  little 
maiden,  and  this  was  the  reason  he  named  her 
Marygold. 

3.  The  king  had  great  bags  of  gold  coin,  a 
gold  cup  as  big  as  a  wash-bowl,  heavy  golden 
bars,   and  many  other  treasures ;  these  he  kept 
hidden  away  in  a  dark  dungeon   of  his  palace. 
Every  day  he  would  go  down  to  this  dismal  place, 
and,  locking  the  door  carefully  behind  him,  would 
count  over  his  riches. 

4.  One  day  Midas  was  in  his  treasure-room  en- 
joying himself  as  usual,  when  he  saw  a  shadow 
fall  on  the  heaps  of  gold.     He  looked  up ;  there 
was  a  stranger  standing  in  the  sunlit  corner. 

5.  The  stranger  smiled  at  Midas  kindly,  and, 
looking  about  the  room,  said:  "You  are  a  very 
rich  man,  friend  Midas ;  I  doubt  if  any  other  four 
walls  on  earth  contain  so  much  gold  as  you  have 
piled  up  here," 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


6.  "  I  have  done  fair- 
ly well,  fairly  well,"  an- 
swered Midas.  "  But, 
after  all,  it  is  but  a  trifle 
when  you  think  that  it 
has  taken  me  all  my  life 
to  get  it  together.  If 
one  could  live  a  thousand 
years,  he  might  have  time 
to  grow  rich." 

7.  "What ! "  cried  the  stranger,  "then  are  you 
not   satisfied?"     Midas   shook  his   head,     "And 


MYTHS.  35 

pray  what  do  you  wish  ?  "  asked  the  stranger.    "  I 
should  really  like  to  know." 

8.  Midas  did  not  answer  at  once ;  he  tried  to 
think  of  the  very  largest  amount  of  gold  possible, 
and  yet  it  seemed  too  small.    At  last  a  bright  idea 
came  to  him. 

9.  Raising   his    head,  he  looked  the  stranger 
in  the  face.     "  Well,  Midas,"  said  the  visitor,  "  I 
see  that  you  have  decided.     Tell  me  your  wish." 
"I  am  tired  of  collecting  my  gold  so  slowly;  I 
wish  everything  that  I  touch  may  be  changed  to 
gold."     The  stranger's  smile  grew  so  very  broad 
that  it  seemed  to  fill  the  room  like  sunlight. 

10.  "  The  Golden  Touch  ! "  exclaimed  he ;  "  are 
you  quite  sure,  my  friend  Midas,  that  this  will 
satisfy  you  ? "     "  How  could  it  fail  ? "  said  Midas. 
"  And  will  you  never  be  sorry  that  you  possess 
it?"     "Why  should  I?"  asked  Midas.     "I  wish 
for  nothing  else  to  make  me  perfectly  happy." 

11.  "Be  it  as  you  wish,"  replied  the  stranger, 
waving  a  farewell  with  his  hand.     "To-morrow 
at  sunrise  you  will  find  that  you  have  the  '  Golden 
Touch.'"  ' 

12.  The  figure  of  the  stranger  was  so  dazzling 
that  Midas  closed  his  eyes,  and  when  he  opened 
them  he  saw  only  a  yellow  Sunbeam  where  the 


36  GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 

stranger  had  stood.  Very  early  next  morning 
King  Midas  awoke,  and,  stretching  his  arms  out 
of  bed,  began  to  touch  the  objects  near  him.  He 
first  laid  his  fingers  on  a  chair  by  his  bedside, 
but  no  change  could  he  see.  Then  he  tried  the 
other  things,  but  they  remained  exactly  as  before. 
Sadly  disappointed  was  King  Midas.  All  this 
while  it  was  only  daybreak ;  the  sun  had  not  yet 
risen. 

13.  But    suddenly    the    first    sunbeam    came 
through  the  window  and  then  on  the  king's  bed, 
and,  as  he  held  the  bed-spread  in  his  hand,  behold 
the  linen  cloth  had  become  cloth  of  gold !     The 
"Golden  Touch"  had  come  to  him  with  the  first 
sunbeam. 

14.  Midas  started  up  joyfully,  and  ran  about 
the  room,  touching  everything  in  his  way.     He 
seized  one  of  the  bed-posts,  and  it  became  a  fluted 
golden  pillar.     He  pulled  aside  a  window-curtain, 
and  the  tassel  grew  heavy  in  his  hand — a  mass  of 
gold.     He  took  up  a  book  from  the  table.     At 
first  touch  it  looked  like  a  splendidly  bound  and 
gilt-edged  volume ;  but,  when  he  opened  it,  alas  ! 
these  were  only  thin  golden  plates,  with  not  one 
word  that  could  be  read. 

15.  He  hurriedly  put  on  his  clothes,  and  was 


MYTHS.  37 

delighted  to  find   himself  dressed   in  gold-cloth, 
which  was  soft  and  flexible,  but  somewhat  heavy. 

16.  He  drew  out  his  handkerchief,  which  little 
Marygold  had  hemmed  for  him.     This,  too,  was 
gold,  with  the  dear  child's  pretty  stitches  all  along 
the  border  in  gold  thread.     This  change  he  did 
not  like  so  much ;  he  would  rather  that  his  little 
daughter's  handiwork  should  have  remained  the 
same  as  when  she  climbed  upon  his  knee  and  put 
it  in  his  hand.     Then  the  king  left  his  room  and 
went  down  the  wide  staircase,  smiling  to  himself 
to  see  the  balustrade  become  a  bar  of  burnished 
gold. 

17.  He  stepped  from  the  hall  into  the  garden, 
blossoming  with  roses,  which  scented  the  morning 
air  with  their  fragrance. 

18.  King  Midas  looked  at  them  with  delight, 
but  thought  to  himself,  "  I  can  make  you  far  more 
precious  " ;  so  he  took  great  pains,  in  going  from 
bush  to  bush,  to  touch  every  rose,  until  each  flower 
and  bud,  and  even  the  worms  at  the  heart  of  some 
of  them,  were  changed  to  gold. 

19.  By  this  time  the  king  was  called  to  break- 
fast, and,  as  the  morning  air  had  given  him  a  keen 
appetite,  he  made  haste  back  to  the  palace.    Little 
Marygold  had  not  yet  made  her  appearance.     The 


38 


STORIES. 


king  ordered  her  to  be  called,  and,  seating  himself 
at  the  table,  awaited  her.  It  was  not  a  great 
while  before  he  saw  her  coming  along  the  passage- 
way, crying  bitterly. 

20.  When  Midas  heard  her  sobs,  he  thought 
he  would  give  his  little  Marygold  a  surprise ;  so, 

leaning  across  the  table, 
he  touched  his  daughter's 
china  bowl,  and  changed 
it  into  shining  gold. 

21.  Meanwhile  Mary- 
gold   slowly   opened   the 
door,  and  showed  herself 
with   her   apron    at    her 
eyes,  still  sobbing  as  if  her 
heart  would  break. 

22.  "How    now,    my 
little  lady  !  "  cried  Midas. 
"Pray,  what   is  the  mat- 
ter with  you,  this  bright 

morning  ? "  Marygold,  without  taking  her  apron 
from  her  eyes,  held  out  her  hand,  in  which  was 
one  of  the  golden  roses. 

23.  "Beautiful!"  exclaimed  her  father.  "And 
what  is  there  here  to  make  you  cry  ? "  "Ah,  dear 
father ! "  answered  the  child,  as  well  as  her  sobs 


MYTHS.  39 

would  let  her,  "  it  is  not  beautiful,  but  the  ugliest 
flower  that  ever  grew.  As  soon  as  I  was  dressed, 
I  ran  into  the  garden  to  gather  some  roses  for 
you,  but,  oh,  dear !  w^hat  do  you  think  has  hap- 
pened? All  the  beautiful  roses  that  smelled  so 
sweetly  are  blighted  and  spoiled.  They  have 
grown  quite  yellow,  like  this  one.  What  can  have 
been  the  matter  with  them  ? " 

24.  "  Pooh  !  my  little  girl,  pray  don't  cry  about 
it,"  said  Midas,  who  was  ashamed  to  tell  her  the 
truth.     "  Sit  down  and  eat  your  bread  and  milk  ; 
you  will  find  it  easy  enough  to  exchange  a  golden 
rose  like  that,  which  will  last  hundreds  of  years, 
for  an  ordinary  one  which  would  wither  in  a  day." 

25.  "  I  don't  care  for  such  roses  as  this,"  cried 
Marygold,  tossing  it  away.     "  It  has  no  smell,  and 
its  hard  petals  prick  my  nose." 

26.  The  child  now  sat  down  to  the  table,  but 
the  tears  still  came,  and  she  did   not  notice  the 
change  in  her  china  bowl. 

27.  The  king,  whose  cup  of  coffee  had  been 
placed  before  him,  lifted  a  spoonful  to  his  mouth, 
and  sipping  it  was  astonished  to  find  that,  the  in- 
stant his  lips  touched  the  liquid,  it  became  molten 
gold,  and  the  next  moment  hardened  into  a  lump. 
"  Ha  !  "  exclaimed  Midas,  rather  aghast.     "  What 


40  GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 

is  the  matter,  dear  father  ? "  asked  little  Mary  gold, 
gazing  at  him  through  her  tears. 

28.  "  Nothing,    child — nothing,"    said    Midas. 
u  Eat  your  milk  before  it  gets  quite  cold." 

29.  The  king  then  took  a  brook-trout  on  his 
plate,  and  touched  it  with  his  fingers,  when  it  at 
once  became  a  gold-fish.     Then  he  tried  a  sinoking- 
hot  cake,  but  had  scarcely  broken  it  before  it  be- 
came heavy  with  gold.      An  egg,  too,  underwent 
a  similar  change.      So  it  wras  with  each  dish  to 
which  the  king  was  helped,  and  all  the  time  he 
grew  more  and  more  hungry. 

30.  At  last,  when  he  had  burned  his  tongue 
severely  with  a  potato,  which  had  become  red-hot 
metal,  he  could  bear  it  no  longer,  but  groaned 
aloud. 

31.  On  hearing  her  father's  outcry,  pretty  Mary- 
gold  started  from  her  chair,  and,  running  to  him, 
threw  her   arms  affectionately  about   his   knees. 
The  king   bent   down  and   kissed   her  tenderly. 
He  felt  that  his  little  daughter's  love  was  worth  a 
thousand  times  more  than  the  Golden  Touch. 

32.  "  My  precious,  precious  Mary  gold  !  "  cried 
he.     But  Marygold  made  no  answer.     Alas  !  w^hat 
had  he  done  ?     The  moment  his  lips  touched  Mary- 
gold's  forehead,  a  change  had  taken  place.     His 


MYTHS.  41 

little  daughter  was  a  child  no  longer,  but  a  golden 
statue. 

33.  Poor  King  Midas  !     He  stood  at  first  dumb 
with  despair.     Then  he  began  to  wring  his  hands 
and  cried,  "  Would  that  I  were  the  poorest  man 
in  the  wide  world,  if  only  my  dear  child  were  re- 
stored to  me  ! " 

34.  While  he  was  thus  lamenting,  suddenly 
the  stranger,  who  had  granted  his  dearest  wish, 
stood  before  him.     "  Well,  friend  Midas,"  said  he, 
"  pray   how   do   you  succeed    with   the   '  Golden 
Touch '  ? "     Midas  shook  his  head  and  pointed  to 
the  golden  statue.      "I   have  lost  all  my  heart 
really   cared   for."     "  Ah !  so   you   have   made  a 
discovery   since   yesterday  ? "    the   stranger   said. 
"Let  us  see,  then,  which  of  these  things  do  you 
really  think  is  worth  the  most,  the  gift  of   the 
Golden  Touch,  or  one  cup  of  clear,  cold  water  ? " 

35.  "  O  blessed  water ! "  exclaimed  Midas.     "It 
will  never  moisten  my  parched  throat  again." 

36.  "  The  Golden  Touch,"  continued  the  stran- 
ger, "  or  a  crust  of  bread  ? "     "A  piece  of  bread," 
answered  Midas,  "  is  worth  all  the  gold  on  earth." 

37.  "  The  Golden  Touch,"  asked  the  stranger, 
"  or  your  own  little  Marygold,  warm,  soft,  and  lov- 
ing, as  she  was  an  hour  ago  ? " 


42  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

38.  "  My  child,  my  dear  child,"  cried  poor  Mi- 
das.    "  I  would  not  give  one  small  dimple  in  her 
chin  for  the  power  of  changing  the  whole  earth 
into  a  solid  lump  of  gold  ! " 

39.  "  You  are  wiser  than  you  were,  King  Mi- 
das," said  the  stranger,  looking  seriously  at  him ; 
"your  own  heart,   I  see,  has  not   been  entirely 
changed  to  gold.     Tell  me,  do  you  sincerely  wish 
to  get  rid  of  the  Golden  Touch  ?"     "It  is  hateful 
to  me ! "  replied  Midas. 

40.  "  Go,  then,"  said  the  stranger,  "  and  plunge 
into  the  river  that  flows  past  the  bottom  of  your 
garden.     Take  likewise  a  jar  of  the  same  water 
and  sprinkle  over  any  object  you  may  desire  to 
change  again  from  gold  to  its  former  substance. 
If  you  do  this,  you  may  repair  the  mischief  your 
folly  has  caused." 

41.  King  Midas  bowed  low,  and  when  he  lifted 
his  head  he  was  alone. 

42.  You  will  easily  believe  that  Midas  lost  no 
time  in  snatching  up  a  big  earthen  pitcher — earth- 
en no  longer  after  he  had  touched  it,  and  hurry- 
ing to  the  river-side.     On  reaching  the  stream,  he 
plunged  in  headlong,  without  so  much  as  waiting 
to  pull  off  his  shoes. 

43.  "  Poof,  poof,  poof  ! "  snorted  King  Midas, 


4A  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

as  his  head  rose  from  the  water.  "  Well,  this  is 
really  a  refreshing  bath,  and  I  think  I  must  have 
quite  washed  away  the  ' Golden  Touch' — and 
now  for  filling  my  pitcher  ! " 

44.  As  he  dipped  the  pitcher  in  the  water, 
he  was  glad  to  see  it  change  from  gold  into  the 
same  good,  honest  earthen  vessel  which  it   had 
been  before.     The  curse  of  the  Golden  Touch  had 
been  really  removed  from  him. 

45.  And  now  King  Midas  hastened  back  to 
the  palace,  bearing  the  pitcher  carefully,  that  he 
might  not  waste  a  single  drop.     In  handfuls  he 
sprinkled  the  water  over  the  little  golden  figure 
of  his  Marygold.     No  sooner  did  it  fall  on  her, 
than  she  began  to  sneeze  and  sputter,  and  how 
astonished  was  she  to  find  herself  dripping  wet. 

46.  "Pray    do    not,    dear   father,"    cried    she. 
"  See  how  you  have  wet  my  nice  frock  which  I 
put  on  only  this  morning  !  "     For  Marygold  did 
not  know  that  she  had  been  a  little  golden  statue. 

47.  King  Midas  never  regretted  the  loss  of  the 
Golden  Touch. 

Adapted  from  Hawthorne. 


X.-KING  HENRY 
AND  THE  MILLER. 


1.    Once     upon     a 
time,  the  young   king, 
Henry  II,  of  England, 
was    chasing   the    deer   in 
his  forest  of    Sherwood,  a 
sport  of  which  he  was  ex- 
ceedingly  fond.      All  day 

long  he  rode  with  his  princes  and  nobles ;  but, 
being  mounted  on  the  swiftest  horse,  he  at  length 
outrode  them  all,  and  found  himself,  at  twilight, 
quite  alone,  and  lost  in  the  mazes  of  the  wood.  In 
vain  he  wound  his  horn,  shouted,  and  hallooed. 
There  came  to  his  ear  no  answering  sound  of  bu- 
gle, or  voice,  or  galloping  horses,  or  baying  hounds. 
In  this  strait,  the  king  felt  weariness  and  hunger, 
and  longed  for  a  shelter,  support,  and  a  bed,  how- 
ever rude. 

2.  He  wandered  up  and  down  for  a  while,  all 
bewildered,  and  not  a  little  troubled  lest  he  should 
fall  a  prey  to  the  outlaws  who  infested  those 


4:6  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES, 

dense  forest  shades.  But  at  length,  quite  by  ac- 
cident, he  struck  upon  a  path  which  led  him  out 
into  the  open  country,  and  on  to  a  public  road. 
Here  he  happened  to  meet  a  man,  whom  by  his 
whitened  dress  he  knew  to  be  a  miller,  and  of 
whom  he  courteously  asked  the  nearest  way  to 
Nottingham,  where,  at  that  time,  he  was  holding 
his  court. 

3.  The  miller  looked  up   at  him  very  suspi- 
ciously, and  answered,   "Sir,  I   intend  no   saucy 
jest,  but   I  think  what  I  think,  and  that  is,  that 
thou  dost  not  come  so  far  out  of  the  way  for  noth- 
ing." 

"  Why,  man,"  said  the  king,  pleasantly,  "  what 
dost  thou  take  me  for,  that  thou  passest  such  sud- 
den judgment  upon  me  ? "  "  Good  faith,  sir,"  re- 
plied the  miller,  "  and  to  speak  plain,  I  think  thou 
art  some  gentleman-thief  of  the  forest.  So  stand 
back  there  in  the  dark.  Don't  dismount,  lest  I 
crack  thy  knavish  crown  with  my  cudgel ! " 

4.  "  Nay,  friend,  thou  dost  me  great  wrong," 
answered  the  king.     "  I  am  an  honest  gentleman. 
I  have  lost  my  way,  and  I  want  supper  and  lodg- 
ing for  the  night." 

u  I  do  not  believe  that  thou  hast  one  groat  in 
thy  purse,  for  all  thy  gay  clothes,"  said  the  mil- 


LEGENDS. 


ler.  "  Thou  dost  carry  all  thy  silver  on  thy  out- 
side, like  a  pheasant." 

"  Wrong,  again.  I  have  money  enough  to  pay 
for  all  I  call  for." 

"  Well,  if  thou  art  truly*  an  honest  man,  and 
canst  pay  for  it,  I  will  gladly  give  thee  lodging 
and  food." 

5.  "  I  have  always  been  accounted  such  a  man," 
said  the  king.     fct  Here's  my  hand  on  V 

"  Not  so  fast,"  said  the  miller  ;  "  I  must  know 
thee  better,  ere  we  shake  hands.  Thou  mayst  be 
a  hobgoblin,  for  all  I  know."  With  that  the  good 
man  led  the  way  to  his  house,  which  he  entered, 
his  guest  dismounting  and  following  him.  When 
they  stood  in  the  full  firelight,  "  Now,  sir,  let  me 
see  what  thou  art  like,"  said  the  miller. 

"  Look  thy  fill.  Do  not  spare  my  modesty," 
replied  the  merry  monarch. 

6.  "  Well,"  said  the  miller,  "  on  the  whole,  I 
like  thy  face ;  it  is  an  honest  one.     Thou  mayst 
stay  with  us  till  the  morning."     The  miller's  wife, 
who  was  busy  cooking  a  supper,  the  savory  steam 
of  which  was  filling  all  the  cottage,  here  paused 
from  her  work  to  put  in  a  word :   "  Ay,  by  my 
troth,  husband,  he  is  a  comely  youth,  yet  it  is  best 
to  have  a  care.     Art  thou  no  runaway  servitor,  my 


48 


GRANDFATHERS  STORIES 


pretty  lad  ?     Show  us  thy  passport,  and  it  please 
thee;  so  shall  all  be  well." 

7.  The  young  king,  taking  off  his  hat,  and  bow- 
ing low,  replied  :  "  I  have  no  passport,  my  fair 
mistress,  and  I  never  was  a  servitor.  I  am  but  a 
poor  huntsman  belonging  to  the  court,  who  has 
lost  his  way.  I  am  too  wearied  to  ride  to  Notting- 
ham to-night,  so  ask  your  kind  hospitality."  The 


LEGENDS,  49 

good  woman  was  so  well  pleased  with  these  words, 
that  she  replied :  "  Well,  thou  art  welcome,  and, 
though  I  say  it,  thou  shalt  be  well  lodged  in  my 
house.  I  will  give  thee  a  bed  of  fresh  straw,  and 
good  brown  hempen  sheets,  span  clean,  and  thou 
shalt  sleep  like  a  prince.'1 

"  Ay,  sir,"  put  in  the  miller,  "  and  thou  shalt 
have  no  worse  a  bedfellow  than  our  son  Richard." 

8.  The  king  made  a  wry  face,  at  the  idea  of 
sharing  his  bed  with  a  stranger,  but  Master  Rich- 
ard,   a   boorish,    bushy-headed,    but   jolly-looking 
youth,  who  sat  in  the  chimney-corner,  watching 
the  pot  boil,  called  out,  bluntly :  "  Nay,  father,  I 
have  a  word  to  say  to  that.     First,  my  good  fel- 
low, tell   me   truly,  art   thou   right   cleanly  and 
wholesome  ? " 

9.  The  king  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh,  as  he 
answered  :  "  Ay,  friend,  I'll  answer  for  it ;  thou'lt 
have  no  cause  to  complain  of  me  on  that  score." 
Soon  after  this  they  all  sat  down  to  supper,  which 
consisted   of    hot    bag-puddings,    apple-pies,    and 
good  foamy  ale,  which  last  was  passed  from  one 
to    another  in  a  large  brown  bowl.     The   miller 
drank  first  to  his  guest's   good  health,   and  the 
merry  king  did  not  disdain  to  take  the  bowl  in 
turn  and  drink  to  his  host  and  hostess,  with  thanks 


50  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

for  their  good  cheer,  "and  also,"  lie  added,  with  a 
courtly  bow  toward  Richard,  "  permit  me  to  drink 
to  your  gallant  son."  "Then  do  it  quickly," 
said  Dick,  "  and  pass  the  bowl,  for  I  am  dry  ! " 

10.  "  Now,  wifej"  said  the  miller,  "  let  us  have  a 
taste  of  '  light-foot.' "  At  this  the  good  woman 
brought  from  the  pantry  a  venison  pasty  and  set 
it  before  her  husband.  He  helped  his  guest  to  a 


portion,  saying:  "Eat,    sir,   but   make  no   waste. 
It's  a  dainty  dish." 


LEGENDS.  51 

11.  "  Ay,  by  my  faith !  I  find  it  the  daintiest 
dish  that  I  ever  tasted,"  said  the  king,  who  was 
hungry  enough  to  relish  much  worse  fare. 

12.  "By   my   faith!  it   is   no  dainty  at   all," 
said  Kichard,  "  seeing  that  we  eat  it  every  day." 

"  In  what  place  may  the  meat  you  call  '  light- 
foot  '  be  bought  ? "  asked  the  king. 

13.  "Why,  as  for  that,"  answered  Dick,  "we 
don't  buy  it  at  all.     We  fetch  it  on  our   backs 
from  the  forest  yonder.     To  say  truth,  we  now 
and  then  make  free  with  the  king's  deer,  seeing 
that  he  hath  more  of  a  good  thing  than  he  needs 
or  deserves." 

14.  "So,  then,  this  is  venison?"  said  the  king. 
"  Ay,  any  fool  may  know  that.     We  are  never 

without  two  or  three  up  there  under  the  roof. 
But  mind  thou  tell  no  tales  when  thou  leavest  us. 
We  would  not  for  twopence  that  the  king  should 
know  of  it ;  he  might  be  villain  enough  to  hang  us." 

15.  "Don't  be  uneasy,  my  friend,"  said  royal 
Henry.     "  He  shall  never  know  any  more  of  it 
through    me,  I   promise  thee."     After  this   they 
took  a  hearty  draught  of  ale  all  around  and  went 
to  bed. 

16.  The  king  slept  soundly  all  night  on   his 
rude  couch  of  straw,  being  too  tired  to  be  kept 


52  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES, 

awake  even  by  the  lusty  snoring  of  his  bedfellow, 
Richard.  In  the  morning,  after  a  hearty  breakfast, 
for  which,  as  for  his  supper,  the  king  paid  hand- 
somely in  gold,  he  mounted  his  horse  to  depart  for 
Nottingham.  Just  at  this  moment  a  large  party 
of  his  nobles,  who  had  been  hunting  for  him  for 
many  hours,  galloped  up  to  the  miller's  cottage, 
and,  seeing  their  sovereign,  dismounted  and  knelt 
before  him,  asking  his  pardon  for  having  lost  sight 
of  him  in  the  chase  the  day  previous. 

17.  When  the  miller  learned  the  lofty  rank  of 
his  guest,  and  remembered  how  familiarly  he  had 
treated  him,  he  stood  speechless  with  terror,  trem- 
bling from  head  to  foot,  expecting  nothing  less 
than  to  be  hanged  before  his  own  door.      The 
king  saw  his  fright,  and  was  secretly  amused,  but 
said  nothing.     Presently  he  drew  his  sword  slowly 
from    its   scabbard.      At    this    the    poor  miller 
dropped  on  his    knees  and    begged  for  his   life, 
with  big  tears  rolling  down  his  cheeks.     Just  be- 
hind him  knelt  his  wife,  crying  bitterly.     As  for 
Master  Richard,  he  had  valiantly  turned  and  run 
for  Sherwood  Forest  as  soon  as  he  found  who  had 
been  his  bedfellow. 

18.  The  king  lifted  his  sword.     "  Don't  cut  off 
my  head,  your  Majesty  !     It  won't    do  anybody 


LEGENDS, 


53 


else  as  much  good  as  it  does  me  ! "  cried  the  miller. 
The  king  brought  down  his  sword,  not  on  the 
miller's  neck,  but  lightly  on  his  shoulder,  and  said, 
"Rise,  Sir  John  Cockle!" 

Grace  Greenwood, 


XL-DICK  WHITTINGTON  AND  HIS  CAT. 

1.  Once  on  a  time,  nearly  four  hundred  years 
ago,  there  lived  in  a  small  village,  near  London,  a 
poor  little   boy  named   Dick  Whittington.     His 
father  and  mother  had  died  when  he  was  quite 
young,  and  he  could  hardly  remember  them.    Poor 
Dick  had  no  friends,  and  he  lived  about  the  streets, 
clothed  in  rags,  and  picking  up  such  food  as  he 
could  get,  very  much  as  the  dogs  do.     He  had 
heard  of  London,  and  that  the  streets  were  paved 
with  gold ;  and  he  thought,  if  he  could  once  get 
there,  it  would  be  easy  for  him  to  pick  up  guineas 
enough  to  make  him  rich. 

2.  A  wagoner,  going  to  London,  gave  Dick  a 
chance  to  ride,  and  the  poor,  half -starved  lad  was 


LEGENDS.  55 

safely  set  down  in  the  great  city.  He  ran  eagerly 
out  to  fill  his  pockets  with  gold,  but  everywhere 
he  found  dirt  and  stones  instead.  Tired  with  his 
long  walk,  he  sat  down  on  the  steps  of  a  rich  mer- 
chant, Mr.  Fitzwarren,  to  rest,  when  the  ill-natured 
cook  said  she  would  scald  him  if  he  did  not  go 
away.  At  this  moment  the  merchant  came  home, 
and  saw  the  poor  lad  as  he  slowly  rose  to  go  on? 
and  he  said  to  him :  "  What  is  the  matter,  my  lad  ? 
Why  are  you  here  idle  ?  Where  do  you  live  ? " 

3.  To  these  questions  Dick  replied  by  telling 
his  little  history,  and  the  kind-hearted  Mr.  Fitz- 
warren not  only  gave  him  a  dinner,  but  engaged 
him  to  help  about  the  kitchen.     Here  he  found 
friends.     The  coachman  was  kind  to  him,  and  Miss 
Alice,  the  master's  daughter,  gave  him  some  nice 
clothes,  in  place  of  his  old  rags. 

4.  He  had  one  trouble,  however :  he  lodged  in 
a  garret,  and  the  rats  and  mice  ran  over  his  bed  so 
at  night  that  he  could  not  sleep,  and  he  was  afraid 
they  would  eat  him  up.     One  day  a  visitor  gave 
Dick  a  silver  penny,  and  then  he  felt  very  rich  in- 
deed.    The  next  day,  while  out  in  the  streets,  he 
saw  an  old  woman  with  a  fine,  large  cat  in  her 
arms,  which  she  was  trying  to  sell.     Dick  asked 
the  price,  and   was  told  a  penny.     He  gave  the 


56  GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 

old  woman  the  only  piece  of  money  lie  had  ever 
owned,  and  took  puss  home  with  him.  When 
night  came,  and  the  rats  and  mice  made  their  ap- 
pearance, the  cat  soon  cleared  them  out,  and  they 
were  glad  to  get  away  with  their  lives. 

5.  Puss  and  Dick  soon  became  great  friends ; 
and  the  little  boy  was  never  so  happy  as  when  he 
could  steal  away  to  his  garret  and  stroke  the  back 
of  his  pet,  while  she  purred  her  song  to  him. 

6.  One  day  Mr.  Fitzwarren  came  in  and  called 
all  his  servants  about  him.     He  told  them  that  he 
was  about  to  send  a  ship  to  Africa,  and  that  each 
one   might    send   something  of   his  own  to  sell, 
and  have  all  that  it  would  bring.     The  servants 
all  brought  something,  but  Dick  had  only  his  cat. 
The  coachman  offered  to  help  him,  but  Mr.  Fitz- 
warren said  that  he  must  give  something  of  his 
own,  so  the  cat  was  taken  away. 

7.  As  Dick  stood  looking  after  his  good  friend, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "  Now,"  he  said,  "  the  rats 
and  mice  will  eat  me  up  again  ! "    At  this  moment 
the  cook  came   along,    and   soundly  scolded   the 
poor  boy  for  his  idleness,  and  then  cuffed  his  ears. 
Then  Dick  thought  he  would  run  away,  and  he 
set  out  on  one  of  the  roads  leading  into  the  coun- 
try.    After  walking  for  a  time,  he  sat  down   to 


LEGENDS.  57 

rest,   and   the  Bow-bells  began  to   ring,    and   he 
thought  they  said  : 

"Turn  back,  Whittington ! 
Turn  back,  thrice  Lord  Mayor  of  London  ! " 

8.  The  words   were  so  plain,  that  he  got  up 
and  went  back  to  his  home  and  his  work.     Miss 
Alice  took  pity  on  him  and  gave  him  money  to 
buy  another  cat. 

9.  A  year  passed  by,  and,  as  Dick  was  about 
his  work  one  day,  again  he  heard  the  Bow-bells 
ring,  saying  to  him : 

"  Turn  back,  Whittington  ! 
Turn  back,  thrice  Lord  Mayor  of  London  ! " 

Pretty  soon  Mr.  Fitz warren  came  in,  and  again 
called  his  servants  together.  The  ship  had  come 
back,  bringing  beautiful  things  to  those  who  had 
sent  out  their  little  presents.  When  it  came  to 
Dick's  turn,  the  porters  brought  in  and  piled  up 
before  him  a  great  heap  of  bags  of  gold. 

10.  When  the  captain  arrived  in  Africa  he  was 
welcomed  by  the  king  of  that  country,  and  was 
invited   to  a   dinner.     But,  just  as  the  company 
were  about  to  sit  down,  an  army  of  rats  rushed 
in  and  ate  up  all  the  food  before  the  guests  could 
get  any.     The  poor  king,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
said  that  this  often  happened,  and  that  he  w^ould 


58 


GRANDFATHER'* 8  STORIES. 


give  half  his  kingdom  to  get  rid  of  them.  The 
captain  sent  for  Dick's  cat,  and  when  she  came  she 
pounced  upon  the  rats  with  such  fury  that  all  who 
were  not  killed  ran  frightened  away.  Before  the 
captain  sailed,  the  king  sent  on  board  a  hundred 
bags  of  gold  in  exchange  for  the  beautiful  rat- 
killer. 

11.  Dick  "Whittington  was  now  very  rich.  As 
he  grew  up  he  became  a  merchant.  Then  he  mar- 
ried Miss  Alice,  and  he  lived  happily  to  a  good 
old  age.  King  Henry  V.  made  him  Sir  Rich- 
ard Whittington.  He  was  so  well  liked  for  his 
goodness,  that  he  was  three  times  elected  Lord 
Mayor  of  London ;  and  to  his  dying  day  he  never 
forgot  what  the  Bow-bells  said  to  him  when  he 
was  a  poor  little  boy. 


LEGENDS.  59 

XII -KING  ALFRED  AND   THE   CAKES. 

1.  When  Alfred  was  twelve  years  old,  he  had 
not  been  taught  to  read.     One  day  his  mother, 
Queen  Osburgha,  read  to  her  sons  from  a  book  of 
Saxon  poetry.     The  art  of  printing  was  not  known 
at  this  time,  and  the  book,   which   was  written, 
was  illuminated  with  beautiful  letters  of   bright 
colors. 

2.  The  brothers  liked  the  stories  very  much, 
and  their  mother  said,  "  I  will  give  this  book  to 
the  one  who  first  learns  to  read."     Alfred  studied 
very  hard,  and  soon  won  the  book.    He  was  proud 
of  it  all  his  life.     When  Alfred  was  twenty -three 
years  of  age,  he  became  king.     In  the  first  year  of 
his  reign  he  fought  nine  battles  with  the  Danes. 
They  promised  to  leave  the  country,  and  not  re- 
turn.    They  did  not  keep  their  promises,  but  came 
again  and  again  to  fight,  plunder,  and  burn. 

3.  In  the  fourth  year  of  King  Alfred's  reign 
the  Danes  came  in   great  numbers   to  England. 
The  king's  soldiers  were  routed,  and  the  king  was 
obliged  to  disguise  himself  as  a  common  peasant, 
and  hide  in  the  cottage  of  one  of  his  cowherds. 
One  day  the  cowherd's  wife  set  some  cakes  to 
bake,  and  bade  the  king,  who  was  sitting  by  the 


60 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


fire,  mending  his  bow  and  arrows,  to  tend  them. 
Alfred  thought  more  of  his  bow  and  arrows  than 
he  did  of  the  cakes,  and  let  them  burn. 


4.  Then  the  woman  ran  in,  and  cried  out : 
"  There  !  don't  you  see  the  cakes  on  fire  ?     Then 

wherefore  turn  them  not  ? 

You're  glad  enough  to  eat  them  when  they  are 
piping  hot." 


LEGENDS. 


61 


5.  At  last  the  king  was  able  to  join  his  sol- 
diers again  and  once  more  go  against  the  Danes. 
As  the  two  armies  were  encamped  near  each  other, 
the  king  disguised  himself  as  a  harper,  and  went 
with  his  harp  to  the  Danish  camp  to  find  out  how 
great  was  their  force  of  men  and  arms.    He  played 
and  sang  in  the  very  tent  of  Guthren,  the  Danish 
leader.     While  he  seemed  to  think  of  nothing  but 
his  music,  the  king  watched  everything  and  learned 
all  that  he  wished  to  know. 

6.  And  very  soon  the  great  king  entertained 
them  with  different  music.     He  called  all  his  true 
followers  to  meet  him,  and,  putting  himself  at  their 
head,  marched  on  the  Danish  camp  and  defeate^ 
the  Danes  with  great  loss  to  them.     They  were 
glad  then  to  make  peace. 


62 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


-THE  KNIGHTING  OF  THE  SIRLOIN  OF 
BEEF. 

1.  WHEN  James  the  First  of  England 

Rode  forth  at  Christmastide, 
To  hunt  a  gallant  stag,  often 
Of  Chingf ord  woods  the  pride ; 

2.  The  wind  blew  keen,  the  snow  fell  fast. 

And  made  for  earth  a  pall, 
As  tired  steeds  and  wearied  men 
Returned  to  Friday  Hall. 


LEGENDS.  63 

3.  The  blazing  logs,  piled  on  the  dogs, 

Were  pleasant  to  behold ; 
And  grateful  was  the  steaming  feast 
To  hungry  men  and  cold. 

4.  With  right  good- will  all  took  their  fill, 

And  soon  each  found  relief ; 
While  James  his  royal  trencher  piled 
From  one  huge  loin  of  beef. 

5.  Quoth  James:  " Odd's  fish,  a  noble  dish, 

Aye  noble  made  by  me: 
By  kingly  right,  I  dub  thee  knight — 
Sir  Loin  henceforward  be." 

6.  And  never  was  a  royal  jest 

Received  with  such  acclaim  ; 
And  never  knight  than  good  "  Sir  Loin  v/ 
More  worthy  of  the  name. 


XIV. 

MADAME  WHITNEY'S 
HOUSEKEEPING. 

^  1.    MADAME    WHITNEY'S 

house,  like  all  of  that  date, 

had  an  immense  chimney,  larger  than  her  bed 
room,  with  small  fireplaces  in  the  square  rooms, 
and  one  high,  deep,  and  wide,  in  the  kitchen. 
A  heavy  crane  swung  in  this  kitchen  fireplace, 
on  which  she  could  hang  four  or  five  cooking- 
pots  and  kettles  at  a  time.  At  the  left  was 
the  brick  oven,  four  feet  deep  and  two  feet  high, 
arched  over  with  brick.  The  brick  or  stone 
floor  of  this  oven  was  about  four  feet  higher  than 
the  kitchen-floor,  and  under  it  was  a  long  pit  for 
ashes. 

2.  Madame  Whitney's  preparations  for  a  boiled 
dinner  began  before  breakfast,  when  she  put  a 
great  piece  of  salt  beef  in  the  pot  over  the  fire. 
This  pot  was  a  fat  thing,  small  at  the  top,  to  keep 
the  smoke  away  from  the  cover,  and  it  held  two 
or  three  pailfuls.  A  piece  of  pork  and  a  quan- 


HOME  STORIES.  65 

tity  of  "garden-sauce" — beets,  cabbage,  turnips, 
carrots,  and  potatoes — followed  the  beef  at  the 
appropriate  time,  and,  best  of  all,  a  pudding.  No 
boiled  dinner  was  complete  without  its  pudding, 
which  was  put  into  the  pot  at  exactly  nine  o'clock, 
dinner  being  always  served  at  noon.  The  pudding 
was  a  simple  batter  of  new  milk  and  Indian-meal, 
made  thin  and  boiled  in  a  linen  bag.  To  insure  light- 
ness, the  water  in  the  pot  must  be  boiling  briskly 
when  the  pudding  was  put  in,  and  never  stop  for 
an  instant.  This  item  of  the  care-taking  attended 
to,  when  the  bag  was  turned  off,  the  pudding  was 
always  found  to  be  "light  as  a  cork,"  and,  with 
cream  and  maple-sugar,  was  very  toothsome,  and 
all  the  more  highly  prized  that  they  did  not  have 
dessert  with  every  dinner.  After  the  vegetables 
and  meats  and  pudding  had  been  taken  up,  crusts 
of  brown  bread,  which  had  been  saved  for  this  pur- 
pose, were  put  into  the  pot  and  boiled  a  few  min- 
utes, then  skimmed  out — a  brewis  with  nameless 
garden  flavors — to  accompany  the  dinner. 

3.  Many  beans  were  raised.  They  were  baked 
and  stewed,  but  oftenest  of  all  were  made  into 
bean-porridge.  This  was  a  rich,  thick  soup,  cooked 
slowly  for  a  long  time.  It  was  made  with  season- 
ing of  beef -bones,  if  obtainable,  but  oftener  a  few 


66  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

slices  of  salt  pork  were  fried  in  the  pot,  two  or 
three  quarts  of  water  poured  upon  them,  and 
added  to  this  was  a  pint  or  more  of  beans  previ- 
ously soaked  overnight  in  cold  water.  It  was 
additionally  seasoned  with  salt  and  small  bits  of 
pepper-pods,  and  was  a  staple  article  of  diet,  being 
made  as  often  as  once  a  week,  summer  and  winter. 
It  was  a  popular  dish  with  the  children,  brown 
bread  or  wheaten  being  crumbled  liberally  into  the 
steaming  bowL 

4.  Baking-day  was  the  great  day  of  the  week. 
Madame  Whitney  was  up  betimes.  Cyrus  was 
summoned,  and  was  expected  to  split  a  great  pile 
of  short  oven- wood  before  breakfast ;  and  it  was 
Sally's  duty  during  the  same  time  to  have  sifted 
the  meal  and  flour — three  sievefuls  of  rye-  and 
three  of  corn-meal  into  the  bread-trough — a  box 
as  large  as  a  baby-cradle.  At  each  end  of  the 
trough,  near  the  top,  was  a  slot  to  hold  the  "  meal- 
stick,"  and  along  this  stick  little  Sally  slid  the 
sieve  to  and  fro,  to  and  fro,  to  sift  the  meal.  She 
next  sifted  a  quantity  of  flour  into  the  wheat-tray 
—a  heavy,  home-made  wooden  receptable,  holding 
but  little  less  than  the  trough.  After  breakfast, 
madame  rolled  her  sleeves  to  her  shoulders,  tied 
on  a  clean  linen  apron,  and,  with  a  pan  of  milk 


HOME  STORIES.  67 

and  water  and  a  bowl  of   fresh  yeast,  began  to 
make  the  brown  bread. 

5.  I  regret  to  say  that  it  is  my  belief  that  she 
called  this  bread  "  ryninjun  "  when  it  was  done. 
It  was  no  light  task  to  mix  five  or  six  large  loaves, 
since  it  must  be  made  stiff  enough  to  bake  with- 
out pans  on  the  bottom  of  the  oven.  When  it 
was  thoroughly  mixed  she  heaped  it  on  one  end 
of  the  trough,  and  set  it  near  the  fire  to  rise.  Then 
she  mixed  the  wheaten  dough,  and  set  the  tray 
over  the  trough.  The  oven  was  heated  by  build- 
ing a  fire  of  finely  split  wood  in  it.  This  fire  was 
kept  an  hour  or  two,  but  old  ladies  used  to  say 
they  "could  tell  when  an  oven  was  hot  by  the 
looks."  When  it  was  at  white  heat,  the  coals 
were  spread  over  the  oven  to  heat  the  bottom,  and, 
when  this  stone  floor  reached  the  right  degree,  the 
coals  and  ashes  were  scraped  out,  and  a  birch 
broom,  from  which  the  string  had  been  cut  to  let 
the  splinters  stand  in  all  directions,  was  used  to 
sweep  or  mop  it  clean.  Pots  of  beans  and  an  In- 
dian pudding  were  set  in  while  the  oven  was  yet 
too  hot  for  bread.  The  rye-and-Indian  and  the 
wheat  dough  having  become  light,  they  were 
gently  sprinkled  with  dry  meal,  and  slid  into  the 
oven  from  the  blade  of  a  long-handled  wooden 


68  GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 

shovel — the  brown  bread  first,  and,  when  the  oven 
was  a  little  cooler,  the  wheat-bread. 

6.  There  was  then  room  for  two  or  three  pies 
in  the  mouth  of  the  oven.    Fruit-pies  could  seldom 
be  made ;  berries,  to  be  sure,  grew  in  the  clearings, 
and  wild  grapes  grew  near  some  of  the  streams, 
but  the  Whitney  family  and  their  neighbors  had 
to  wait   years   for   apples  and   other   tree-fruits. 
When  wild  cherries  were  ripe,  Madame  Whitney 
used  sometimes  to  make  pies  of  them — of  both 
bird-cherries  and  the  bush-cherry,  called  choke- 
cherries.     In  spring  she  made  pies  of  sorrel.     On 
baking-days  the  children  were  sent  to  gather  a 
quantity   of    fresh   young   sorrel-leaves — the   old 
leaves  were  tough  and  bitter.     After  covering  a 
plate  with  paste,  she  piled  it  high  with  carefully 
washed  and  picked  sorrel,  put  on  plenty  of  maple- 
sugar,  and  covered  it  with  paste. 

7.  America  had  not  then  become  a  pie-eating 
nation,  but  Madame  Whitney  made  more  than  her 
neighbors,  especially  when  pumpkins  came.     Oh, 
the  pumpkin  !  I  don't  know  what  our  pioneers 
would  have  done  without  it.    It  was  easily  raised, 
and  much  used.     They  put  it  into  brown  bread 
to  give  it  a  sweet  taste  ;  they  ate  it  simply  stewed ; 
they  cut  it  into  long  strips,  and  dried  it  over  the 


HOME  STORIES.  69 

fire;  they  made  pies  of  it;  and  sometimes  they 
even  made  of  it  an  inferior  kind  of  sirup. 

Luthera  Whitney.     Selected  from  "  Old-Time  Days  and  Ways" 


XV.-THE  BOSTON  BOYS. 

1.  Just  before  the  Revolution  a  company  of 
British   troops   was    stationed   at   Boston.      The 
people  did  not  like  them,  for  they  would  often 
stop  men  in  the  street,  and  in  many  ways  make 
themselves  disagreeable. 

2.  In  the  winter  the  boys  in  one  of  the  schools 
had  a  sliding-place  on  the  Common.     This  the  sol- 
diers destroyed  as  often  as  the  boys  built  it  up. 
After  appealing  in  vain  to  the  captain,  the  boys 
finally  went  to    General  Gage    and   complained. 
"  What ! "  he  said,  "  have  your  fathers  been  teach- 
ing you  rebellion,  and  sent  you  here  to  exhibit  it  ? " 
"  Nobody  sent  us,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  boys.    "  We 
have  never  injured  nor  insulted  your  troops,  but 
they  have  trodden  down  our  snow-hills,  and  broken 
the  ice  on  our  skating-ground.     We  complained, 
and  they  called  us  '  young  rebels,'  and  told  us  '  to 
help  ourselves  if  we  could.'     We  told  the  cap- 


70 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


tains   of  this,  and  they 
laughed  at  us.     Yester- 
day    our      works 
were     destroyed 
for    the  third 
time,    and 
we       will 
\    bear  it  no 

longer." 

3.  The  General  said,  with  surprise,  to  one  of  his 
officers :  "  The  very  children  here  draw  in  a  love 
of  liberty  with  the  air  they  breathe.  You  may 
go,  my  brave  boys ;  and  be  assured,  if  my  troops 
trouble  you  again,  they  shall  be  punished." 


Revolutionary  Musket. 


HOME  STORIES.  71 

XYL-WASHINGTON  AND   THE  HORSE. 

1.  Washington  owed  much  of  his  greatness  to 
his  mother.      She  taught  him  many  lessons  and 
gave  him  many  rules ;    but  her  own  deeds  every 
day  impressed  him  most.     She  taught  him  to  be 
truthful ;   but  her  lessons  were  not  half  as  for- 
cible as  her  own  truthfulness. 

2.  There  is  a  story  told  of  George  Washing- 
ton's boyhood  which  is  to  the  point.     His  father 
had  taken  a  great  deal  of   pride  in  his  blooded 
horses,  and  his  mother  afterward  took  great  in- 
terest in  the  young  horses  that  had  not  yet  been 
broken;  ajid  one  of  them  in  particular,  a  sorrel, 
was  extremely  spirited.     No  one  had  been  able 
to  do  anything  with  it,  and  it  was   pronounced 
thoroughly  vicious,  as  people  are  apt  to  pronounce 
horses  which  they  have  not  learned  to  master. 
George  was  determined  to  ride  this  colt,  and  told 
his  companions  that,  if  they  would  help  him  catch 
it,  he  would  ride  and  tame  it. 

3.  Early  in  the  morning  they  set  out  for  the 
pasture,  where  the  boys  managed  to  surround  the 
sorrel,  and  then  to  put  a  bit  into  its  mouth.    Wash- 
ington sprang  on  its  back,  the  boys  dropped  the 
bridle,  and  away  flew  the  angry  animal.     Its  rider 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


at  once  began  to  command  ;  the  horse  resisted, 
backing  about  the  field,  rearing  and  plunging. 
The  boys  became  thoroughly  alarmed,  but  Wash- 


ington   kept  his 

seat,  never  once  los- 

ing  his  self-control  or 

his  mastery  of   the    colt. 

The    struggle  was  a   sharp 

one;  when  suddenly,  as  if   deter- 


HOME  STORIES.  73 

mined  to  rid  itself  of  its  rider,  the  creature  leaped 
into  the  air  with  a  tremendous  bound.  It  was  its 
last.  The  violence  burst  a  blood-vessel,  and  the 
noble  horse  fell  dead. 

4.  Before  the  boys  could  sufficiently  recover 
to  consider  how  they  should  extricate  themselves 
from  the  scrape,  they  were  called  to  breakfast. 
The  mistress  of  the  house,  knowing  that  they  had 
been  in  the  fields,  began  to  ask  after  her  stock. 

5.  "Pray,  young  gentlemen,"  said  she,  "have 
you  seen  my  blooded  colts  in  your  rambles?     I 
hope  they  are  well  taken  care  of.     My  favorite,  I 
am  told,  is  as  large  as  his  sire.'1 

6.  The  boys  looked  at  one  another,  and  no  one 
liked  to  speak.     Of  course,  the  mother  repeated 
her  question. 

7.  "  The  sorrel  is  dead,  madam,"  said  her  son. 
"I  killed  him!"     And  then  he  told  the  whole 
story.      They  say  that  his  mother  flushed  with 
anger,  as  her  son  so  often  used  to,  and  then,  like 
him,  controlled  herself,  and  presently  said,  quietly : 
"It  is  well;  but  while  I  regret  the  loss  of  my  fa- 
vorite, I  rejoice  in  my  son,  who  always  speaks  the 
truth." 


GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 


XVII -OUR  GRANDMOTHERS  AT  SCHOOL. 

1.  Mrs.  Diaz,  in  her  delightful  sketches,  gives 
an   account  of   her    old    teachers,    and  how  the 

old-time  schools 
were  conducted. 
She  always  sees 
the  funny  side. 

2.  "  One   of 
nay  teachers/'she 
says, "  was  Marm 
Leonard.       She 
used  to  wear  a 
ruffled   vandyke 
and    a   necklace 
of     large     blue 
beads,  and  a  row 
of  reddish  false 
curls     on     each 
side  of  her  fore- 
head. 

3.  "  Marm 
Leonard    had    a 
faculty  for  con* 

triving  punishments  suitable  to  the  nature  of  each 
offense.    For  example,  when  little  Sethy  Gushing 


HOME  STORIES. 


tied  his  comforter  around  a  kitten  and  hung  it  on 
the  clothes-line,  she  tied  the  comforter  around  lit- 
tle Sethy  Gushing  and  hung  him  on  the  crane  in 
her  great  kitchen  fireplace  Of  course,  the  fire- 
place was  not  at  that  time  in  use. 

4.  "  Scholars  who  told  lies  had  mustard  put  on 
their  tongues.     When  a  little  girl  stole  a  vial  of 
boxberry-cordial   from   one    of 

the  other  children,  Marm  Leon- 
ard held  that  little  girl's  fingers 
over  the  red-hot  coals. 

5.  "She  had  also 
othej   ways  of   per- 
suading us  to  avoid 
the  evil  and  take  to 
the  good.     She  kept 
a   thin,    oval-shaped 
silver  locket,  marked 
1  Best     scholar,'    for 
the  best   scholar  to 
wear.     She  also  had 

ribbon  bows,  of  blue,  pink,  light-green,  and  black. 
All  the  good  scholars  went  home  with  bright 
bows  pinned  on  their  shoulders.  The  marm  had 
but  one  black  bow,  and  that  was  reserved  to  be 
pinned  on  the  one  who  was  unusually  bad. 


76  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

6.  "I  must  not  forget  to  mention  the   Cate- 
chism— or  '  Catechise,'  as  it  was  usually  called — for 
in  that  Marm  Leonard  drilled  us  well.     At  the 
summons  '  All  stand  up  and  say  your  Catechise  !  ' 
we  all  stood  up  in  a  straight  line  on  a  crack  of 
the  floor.     She  put  out  the  questions  in  a  high 
pitched  tone  of  voice,  speaking  very  fast,  and  we 
answered  with  equal  rapidity,  running  the  words 
together  and  scampering  along  without  stopping 
to   breathe.     In  fact,  we   answered   in   one  long 
word. 

7.  "The   'Catechise'  contained   one   hundred 
and   seven   questions,   their   answers,  the   Lord's 
Prayer,    and   the    Ten    Commandments,    and   the 
Creed.     Some   of   the    scholars   knew   the   book 
through,  and  the  '  Primer '  besides. 

8.  "  The  '  Primer '  was  a  thin  book,  about  five 
inches  long  and  four  wide,  with  blue  covers  and 
leather  binding.     It  had  a  woodcut  of  John  Han- 
cock and  a  number  of  very  small  woodcuts,  one 
for   every   letter   of   the   alphabet.     These   were 
placed  up  and  down  the  pages,  six  in  a  page,  at 
the  left-hand   side,  each  with  its  couplet  at  the 
right     Thus,  for  A  there  was  the  couplet— 

"'  In  Adam's  fall 
We  sinned  all.' 


HOME  STORIES.  77 

9.  "  In  the  picture  there  were  two  droll-look- 
ing human  images,  whose  bond  of  union  seemed 
to  be  an  apple,  which  both  of  them  were  holding. 
They  stood  close  to  a  tree.     It  looked  like  a  cedar 
or  a  hemlock  tree,  but  we  knew  it  to  be  an  ap- 
ple-tree, because  there  were    apples  on  it.     We 
were  sure  they  were  apples,  for  we  had  heard  the 
story  again  and  again.     Around  the  trunk  was 
coiled  a  serpent  of  the  size — so  it  seemed  to  us — 
of  a  small  anaconda,  for  with  only  two  coils  it 
reached  from  the  ground  to  the  branches. 

10.  "  For  '  O  '  there  were  three  human  images, 
two  of  them  with  crowns  and  scepters,  and  the 
triplet — 

" '  Johnny  Obadias, 
David,  Josias, 
All  were  pious.' 

11.  "Besides  the  pictures  and  rhymes,  the  'Prim- 
er '  contained  the  alphabet,  the  '  abs,'  a  few  pages  of 
6  spelling-words,'  a  variety  of   '  Lessons  and  Max- 
ims for  Children,'  several  prayers,  the  whole  of 
the  Catechism,  the  '  Golden  Rule,'  and  a  number 
of  verses,  texts,  and  so  forth. 

12.  "It  was  always  a  marked  event  when  the 
committee  visited   the  school.     If  the  President 
and  all  his  Cabinet  were  to  walk  into  the  room 


HOME  STORIES.  79 

where  I  am  writing,  they  would  not  seem  half  so 
stately  and  grand  to  me  as  did  those  four  gentle 
men  who  used  to  visit  the  school  once  or  twice 
during  the  winter.  They  came  up  from  town  on 
horseback ;  a  wheeled  vehicle  was  rarely  seen  in 
those  days.  Their  arrival  was  usually  announced 
by  some  scholar  who  had  peeped  through  a  crack, 
or  who  had  stood  up  and  looked  out  of  the  window. 

13.  " ' Committee's   come!'  was   the   whisper 
which  ran  through  the  room.     Its  effect  was  mag- 
ical.    The  schoolmaster,  startled  by  the  sudden 
silence,  would  throw  a  hurried  glance  at  the  win- 
dow, and  then  try  to  put  on  a  serene  and  lamb- 
like expression.     We  would  listen  as  still  as  mice 
till  we  heard  voices  outside ;  then  came  steps  in 
the  entry ;  then  a  rap  at  the  door.     At  the  mo- 
ment of  their  entrance  the  stillness  was  such  that 
we  hardly  breathed. 

14.  "  Oh,  how  majestic  they  looked  with  their 
nice  broadcloth  (our  folks  wore  homespun),  their 
ruffled  shirts,  their  heavy  watch-seals,  and  their 
gold-headed  canes  !    Walking  along  the  alley- way, 
they  fairly  lighted  up  that  dingy,  low- walled  little 
building.     With  what  an  air  they  looked  down 
upon  us !     How   could   anything   seem   good  in 
their  sight  ? 


80  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

15.  "They   usually   heard    the    classes   read, 
looked  at  the  writing-books,  and  gave  out  '  spell- 
ings.9    Mr.  Bixby  was  the  most  pompous  member 
of  the  committee.     He  felt  himself  the  grandest. 
I  remember  his  hanging   cheeks,  and   his  quick, 
puffy  way  of  talking.     I  also  recall  what  he  once 
said  when  the  other  gentlemen  were  in  favor  of 
our  taking  up  a  new  study :  '  Oh,  it's  of  no  con- 
sequence— no  consequence  at  all !     They  are  not 
intended  to  grace  a  drawing-room.' 

16.  "The  ' committee'  heard  us  all  read  and 
spell,  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  writing-books, 
talked  in  undertones  with  the  schoolmaster  and 
with  each  other,  said  '  a  few  words '  to  the  schol- 
ars, then  they  walked  out,  hats  and  canes  in  hand, 
and  the  whole   school   standing   as   they  passed 
down  the  alley.     When,  at  last,  the  closing  door 
shut  them  out,  it  seemed  as  if  the  school-room  had 
met  with  an  eclipse. 

17.  "We  listened  in  silence  while  they  trotted 
away,  and  then,  as  if  just  awakened  from  a  dream, 
scholars  resumed  their  mischief -making,  the  school- 
master his  natural  expression  of  countenance,  and 
flogging,  hair-pulling,  and  ear-pulling  went  on  as 
usual,  accompanied  by  the  whizzing  of  rulers." 

Youth's  Companion. 


HOME  STORIES. 


81 


Mi 

THE  BOSTON 
B£|J         TEA-PARTY. 

1.  Before  the 
Revolution,      the 
British  laid  a  tax  on  tea 
before  it  could  be  sold 
in  America.  The  Amer- 


icans would  not  pay 
this  tax,  and  would 
not  buy  the  tea. 
The  women  came  to- 


82  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

gather  in  each  town  and  declared  they  would  drink 
no  tea  until  the  tax  was  taken  off.  As  they  must 
have  something  to  drink  at  their  tea-parties,  some 
tried  catnip,  some  sage,  some  sassafras,  and  some 
other  herbs.  It  was  a  hard  time  for  them,  poor 
souls  !  but  they  stood  out  nobly. 

2.  By-and-by,  three  ships  laden  with  tea  were 
sent  to   Boston.     Then,  what  a  time  they  had ! 
Sixty  men  dressed  like  Indians,  with  paint  and 
feathers,  jumped  on  board  the  vessels  and  went  to 
work  to  destroy  the  tea.     The  chests  were  brought 
up  and  opened,  and  the  tea  turned  into  the  water. 
Such  a  tea-party  the  fish  never  had  before.     When 
the  last  pound  of  tea  was  poured  out,  the  Indians 
went  off,  and  were  never  found  out  by  the  British. 

3.  George  P.  Morris,  the  poet,  describes  this 
tea-party,   and   the   origin  of  the  tune    "Yankee 
Doodle,"  in  the  following  poem,  which  the  children 
should  both  read  and  sing : 

4.  Once   on  a  time  Old  Johnny  Bull  flew  in  a 

raging  fury, 
And  swore  that  Jonathan  should  have  no  trials, 

sir,  by  jury ; 
That  no  elections  should  be  held,  across  the 

briny  waters ; 


HOME  STORIES.  83 

"  And  now,"  said  he,  "  I'll  tax  the  tea  of  all  his 
sons  and  daughters." 

Then  down  he  sate  in  burly  state,  and  blus- 
tered like  a  grandee, 

And  in  derision  made  a  tune  called  "  Yankee 
doodle  dandy." 

"  Yankee  doodle  "-  —these  are  facts — "  Yankee 
doodle  dandy ; 

My^son  of  wax,  your  tea  I'll  tax  ;  you  Yankee 
doodle  dandy ! " 

5.  John  sent  the  tea  from  o'er  the  sea,  with  heavy 

duties  rated ; 
But  whether  hyson  or  bohea,  I  never  heard  it 

stated. 
Then  Jonathan  to  pout  began — he  laid  a  strong 

embargo — 
"  I'll    drink  no  tea,   by  Jove ! "    so   he    threw 

overboard  the  cargo. 
Then  Johnny  sent  a  regiment,  big  words  and 

looks  to  bandy, 
Whose    martial    band,   when    near   the   land, 

played  "Yankee  doodle  dandy." 
"  Yankee  doodle — keep  it  up — Yankee  doodle 

dandy— 
I'll   poison  with  a  tax  your  cup,  you  Yankee 

doodle  dandy." 


84:  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

60  A  long  war  then  they  had,  in  which  John  was 

at  last  defeated, 
And  Yankee  doodle  was  the  march  to  which 

his  troops  retreated. 
'Cute    Jonathan,   to  see   them   fly,   could   not 

restrain  his  laughter ; 
"That  tune,"  said  he,  "suits  to  a  T— I'll  sing  it 

ever  after ! " 
Old  Johnny's  face,  to  his  disgrace,  was  flushed 

with  beer  and  brandy, 
E'en  while  he    swore    to    sing   no    more,  this 

"  Yankee  doodle  dandy." 

Yankee  doodle-ho-ha-he — Yankee  doodle  dandy, 
We  kept   the  tune,  but  not  the  tea — Yankee 

doodle  dandy. 

7.  I've  told  you  now  the  origin  of  this  most  lively 

ditty, 
Which   Johnny   Bull    dislikes   as    "dull    and 

stupid  "  —what  a  pity  ! 
With  "  Hail  Columbia "  it  is  sung,  in  chorus 

full  and  hearty— 
On  land  and  main  we  breathe  the  strain  John 

made  for  his  tea-party. 
No  matter  how  we  rhyme  the  words,  the  music 

speaks  them  handy, 


HOME  STORIES.  85 

And   where's  the   fair    can't  sing   the   air   of 

Yankee  doodle  dandy  ? 
Yankee  doodle,  firm  and  true — Yankee  doodle 

dandy- 
Yankee  doodle,  doodle  do, Yankee  doodle  dandy ! 


XIX. '-THE  YOIWG  BLACKSMITH. 

1.  The  battle  of  Bennington  might  have  been 
lost  by  the  Americans  if  Luke  Varnum,  the  young 
blacksmith,  had  not  been  lame.     This  is  the  way 
Edward  Everett  Hale  tells  the  story : 

2.  Luke  Varnum  was  fifteen  years  old,  and  he 
was  lame  of  his  left  foot.     So,  when  every  other 
boy  in  Number  Five,   and  every  man,   old  and 
young,  shouldered  his  firelock  and  marched  off  to 
join  General  Stark,  and  go   and   fight   the   Hes- 
sians at  Bennington,  Luke  was  left  at  home.     He 
limped  out  and  held  the  stirrup  for   Lieutenant 
Chittenden  to  mount,  and  then  he  had  to  stay  at 
home  with  the  babies  and  the  women. 

3.  The  men  had  been  gone  an  hour  and  a  half, 
when  three  men  galloped  up  on  horseback.     And 
Luke  went  down   to  the  rails  to  see  who  they 


86  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

were.  "  Is  there  nobody  here  ? "  said  one  of  them. 
"  Yes/'  said  Luke,  "  I  am  here."  "  I  see  that/' 
said  the  first  man,  laughing.  "  What  I  mean  is,  is 
there  nobody  here  can  set  a  shoe  ? " 

4.  "  I  think  I  can,"  said  Luke.     "  I  often  tend 
fire  for  Jonas.     I  can  blow  the  bellows,  and  I  can 
hold  the  horse's  foot.     Anyway,  I  will  start  up 
the  fire." 

5.  So   Luke   went   into   the   forge   and   took 
down   the  tinder-box   and   struck   a   light.      He 
built  the  fire,  and  hunted  up  half  a  dozen  nails 
which  Jonas  had  left,  and  he  had  even  made  two 
more,  when  a  fourth  horseman  came  slowly  down 
on  a  walk. 

6.-"  What  luck,"  said  he,  "to  find  a  forge  with 
the  fire  lighted  !  "  "  We  found  one,"  said  Marvin, 
"  with  a  boy  who  knew  how  to  light  it."  And  the 
other  speaker  flung  himself  off  his  horse  in  haste. 

7.  And  Luke  pared  the  hoof  of   the  dainty 
creature,  and  measured  the  shoe,  which  was  too 
big  for  her.     He   heated   it  white,   and   bent  it 
closer,  to  the  proper  size.     "  It  is  a  poor  fit,"  he 
said,  u  but  it  will  do." 

8.  "  It  will  do  very  well,"  said  her  rider.    "  But 
she  is  very  tender-footed,  and  I  do  not  dare  trust 
her  five  miles  unshod." 


88  GRANDFATHER'1  S  STORIES. 

9.  And,  for  pride's  sake,  the  first  two   nails 
Luke   drove  were   those   he   had   made   himself. 
And   when   the   shoe   was   fast,   he   said,    "Tell 
Jonas  that  I  het  up  the  forge — and  put  on  the 
shoe." 

10.  "  We    will    tell    him,"   said   the    colonel, 
laughing,  and  he  rode  on.     But  one  of  the  other 
horsemen  tarried  a  minute,   and  said :   "  Boy,  no 
ten  men  who  left   you   to-day   have   served  our 
country  as  you  have.     That  is  Colonel  Warner." 

11.  When  I  read  in  the  big  books  of  history 
how  Colonel  Warner  led  up  his  men  just  in  time 
to  save  the  day  at  Bennington,  I  am  apt  to  think 
of  Luke  Varnum,  the  lame  young  blacksmith. 


XX.-REBECCA  THE  DRUMMER. 

1.  It  was  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning 
when  the  ship  first  appeared.  At  once  there  was 
the  greatest  excitement  at  the  village.  It  was  a 


HOME  STORIES.  89 

British  war-ship.  What  would  she  do  ?  Would 
she  tack  about  in  the  bay  to  pick  up  stray  coasters 
as  prizes,  or  would  she  land  soldiers  to  burn  the 
town?  In  either  case  there  would  be  trouble 
enough. 

2.  Those  were  sad  days,  those  old  war-times 
in  1812.     The  sight  of  a  British  war-ship  in  Bos- 
ton Bay  was  not  pleasant.     We  were  poor  then, 
and  had  but  few  vessels  able  to  fight  the  enemy. 
Our  navy  was  small,  and,  though  we  afterward 
had  the  victory,  and  sent  the  troublesome  ships 
away  never  to  return,  at  that  time  they  often  came 
near  enough,  and  the  good  people  in  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Scituate  Harbor  were  in  great  distress  over 
the  strange  ship  that  had  appeared  at  the  mouth 
of  the  harbor. 

3.  It  was  a  fishing-place  in  those  days,  and  the 
harbor  was  full  of  smacks  and  boats  of  all  kinds. 
The  soldiers  could  easily  enter  the  harbor  and 
burn  up  everything,  and  no  one  could  prevent 
them.     There  were  men  enough  to  make  a  good 
fight,  but  they  were  poorly  armed,  and  had  noth- 
ing but  fowling-pieces  and  shot-guns,  while  the 
soldiers  had  muskets  and  cannon. 

4.  The  tide  was  down  during  the  morning,  so 
that  there  was  no  danger  for  a  few  hours,  and  all 


90  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES, 

the  people  went  out  on  the  cliffs  and  beaches  to 
watch  the  ships,  and  see  what  would  happen 
next. 

5.  On  the  end  of  the  low,  sandy  spit  that  makes 
one  side  of  the  harbor  stood  the  little  white  tower 
known  as  Scituate  Heights.     In  the  house  behind 
the  light  lived  the  keeper's  family,  consisting  of 
himself,  wife,  and  several  boys  and  girls.     At  the 
time  the  ship  appeared  the  keeper  was  away,  and 
there  was  no  one  at  home  save  Mrs.  Bates,  the 
eldest  daughter  Rebecca,  about  fourteen  years  old, 
two  of  the  little  boys,  and  a  young  girl  named 
Sarah  Winsor,  who  was  visiting  Rebecca. 

6.  Rebecca  had  been  the  first  to  discover  the 
'ship  while  she  was  at  the  lighthouse  tower  pol- 
ishing the  reflector.     She  at  once  descended  the 
steep  stairs,  and  sent  off  the  boys  to  the  village  to 
give  the  alarm. 

7.  For  an  hour  or  two  the  ship  tacked  and 
stood  off  to  sea,  then  tacked  again,  and  made  for 
the  shore.     Men,  women,  and  children  watched 
her  with  anxious  interest.     Then  the  tide  turned, 
and  began  to  flow  into  the  harbor.     The  boats 
aground  on  the  flats  floated,  and  those  in  deep 
water  swung  round  at  their  moorings.     Now  the 
soldiers  would  probably  land.    If  the  people  meant 


STORIES.  91 

to  save  anything,  it  was  time  to  be  stirring.  Boats 
were  hastily  put  out  from  the  wharf,  and  such 
clothing,  nets,  and  other  valuables  as  could  be 
handled  were  brought  ashore,  loaded  into  hay- 
carts,  and  carried  away. 

8.  It  was  of  no  use  to  resist.     The  soldiers,  of 
course,  were  well  armed,  and,  if  the  people  made 
a  stand  among  the  houses,  they  would  not  prevent 
the  enemy  from  destroying  the  shipping. 

9.  As  the  tide  spread  out  over  the  sandy  flats, 
it  filled  the  harbor,  so  that,  instead  of  a  small 
channel,  it  becomes  a  wide  and  beautiful  bay.    The 
day  was  fine,  and  there  was  a  gentle  breeze  rip- 
pling the  water   and   making   it   sparkle   in  the 
sun.     What  a  splendid  day  for  fishing  or  sailing  ! 
Not  much  use  to  think  of  either  while  that  war- 
ship   crossed    and   recrossed   before   the   harbor- 
mouth  ! 

10.  About  two  o'clock  the  tide  reached  high- 
water  mark,  and,  to  the  dismay  of  the  people,  the 
ship  let  go  her  anchor,  swung  her  yards  round, 
and  lay  quiet  about  half  a  mile  from  the  first  cliff. 
They  were  going  to  land  to  burn  the  town.    With 
their  spy-glasses  the  people  could  see  the  boats 
lowered  to  take  the  soldiers  ashore. 

11.  Ah  !  then  there  were  confusion  and  uproar 


92 


GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 


Every  horse  in  the  village  was  put  into  some  kind 
of  team,  and  the  women  and  children  were  hurried 
off  to  the  woods  behind  the  town.  The  men 
would  stay  and  offer  as  brave  a  resistance  as  pos- 
sible. Their  guns  were  light  and  poor,  but  they 
could  use  the  old  fish-houses  as  a  fort,  and  perhaps 
make  a  brave  fight  of  it.  If  worse  came  to  worse, 
they  could  at  least  retreat  and  take  to  the  shelter 
of  the  woods. 

12.  It  was  a  splendid  sight.     Five  large  boats, 
manned  by  sailors,  and  filled  with  soldiers  in  gay 
red  coats.     How  their  guns  glittered  in 
the  sun !     The  oars  all  moved 
together  in  regular  order,  and 
the  officers   in   their  fine  uni- 
forms stood  up  to  direct  the  ex- 
pedition.     It    was   a    courageous 
company   come   with    a   war-ship 
and  cannon  to  fight  helpless  fisher- 
men ! 

13.  So  Rebecca  Bates  and  Sa- 
rah Winsor  thought,  as  they  sat 
up  in  the  lighthouse  tower  look- 
ing down  on  the  procession  of 
boats  as  it  went  past  the  point  and 
entered  the  harbor.  "  Oh,  if  I  only  were  a  man ! " 


An  English 
Grenadier. 


HOME  STORIES.  93 

cried  Rebecca.  "  What  could  you  do  ?  See  what 
a  lot  of  them,  and  look  at  their  guns  ! "  "I  don't 
care,  I'd  fight.  I'd  use  father's  old  shot-gun— 
anything.  Think  of  uncle's  new  boat  and  the 
sloop!"  "Yes,  and  all  the  boats."  "Yes;  and 
to  think  oue  must  sit  here  and  see  it  all,  and 
not  lift  a  finger  to  help  ! " 

14.  "Do  you  think  there  will   be  a  fight?" 
"  I  don't  know.     Father  and  uncle  are  in  the  vil- 
lage, and  they  will  do  all  they  can."     "  See  how 
still  it  is  in  town  !    There  is  not  a  man  to  be  seen." 
"  Oh,  they  are  hiding  till  the  soldiers  get  nearer. 
Then  we'll  hear  the  shots  and  the  drum." 

15.  "The  drum!     How  can  they?     It  is  here. 
Father   brought   it    home    to    mend   last   night." 
"Did  he?     Then  let's—"     "See!  the  first  boat 
has  reached  the  sloop.     Oh !  oh !  they  are  going 
to  burn  her."     "Where  is  that  drum  ?  "     "  It's  in 
the  kitchen."     "  I've  a  great  mind  to  go  down  and 
beat  it."     "  What  good  would  that  do  ? "     "  Scare 
'em."    "  They'd  see  it  was  only  two  girls,  and  they 
would  laugh,  and  go  on  burning  just  the  same." 
"No;  we  could  hide   behind  the  sand-hills  and 
bushes." 

16.  The  flame  from  the  burning  vessel  urged 
them  to  instant  action.     No  time  for  further  talk. 


94  GRANDFATRER^S  STORIES. 

Down  the  steep  stairs  of  the  tower  rushed  these 
two  young  patriots,  bent  on  doing  what  they  could 
for  their  country.  They  got  the  drum,  and  found 
an  old  fife  in  the  bureau-drawer,  and  slipped  out- 
of-doors  unnoticed.  They  must  be  careful,  or  the 
soldiers  would  see  them.  They  went  Around  back 
of  the  house  to  the  north  and  toward  the  outside 
beach,  and  then  turned  and  plowed  through  the 
deep  sand  just  above  high-water  mark.  They 
must  keep  out  of  the  sight  of  the  boats,  and  of 
the  ship  also.  Luckily,  she  was  anchored  to  the 
south  of  the  light,  and,  as  the  beach  curved  to 
the  west,  they  soon  left  her  out  of  sight.  Then 
they  took  to  the  water-side,  and,  with  the  drum 
between  them,  ran  as  fast  as  they  could  toward 
the  mainland.  Presently  they  reached  the  low 
heaps  of  sand  that  showed  where  the  spit  joined 
the  fields  and  woods. 

17.  Panting  with   excitement,  they  tightened 
up  the  drum  and  tried  the  fife  softly.     "Come, 
begin  !     One,   two ;   one,    two  ! "     Drum  !   drum  ! 
drum  !     Squeak  !   squeak  !  squeak  !     The  men  in 
the  town  heard  it,  and  were  amazed  beyond  meas- 
ure.   Had  the  soldiers  arrived  from  Boston  ?   What 
did  it  mean  ?     Who  were  coming  ? 

18.  Louder  and  louder  on  the  breeze  came  the 


HOME  STORIES.  95 

roll  of  a  sturdy  drum  and  the  sound  of  a  brave 
fife.  The  soldiers  in  the  boats  heard  the  noise, 
and  paused  in  their  work  of  destruction.  The 
officers  ordered  everybody  into  the  boats  in  the 
greatest  haste.  The  people  were  rising !  They 
were  coining  down  the  point  with  cannon  to  head 
them  off !  They  would  all  be  captured  and  per- 
haps hung  by  those  dreadful  Americans.  How 
the  drum  rolled  !  The  fife  changed  its  tune.  It 
played  "  Yankee  Doodle "  —that  horrid  tune ! 
Hark  !  the  men  were  cheering  in  the  town ;  there 
were  thousands  of  them  in  the  woods  along  the 
shore  ! 

19.  In  grim  silence   marched   the   two   girls, 
plodding  over  the  sharp  stones,  splashing  through 
the  puddles,  Rebecca  beating  the  old  drum  with 
might  and  main,  Sarah  blowing  the  fife  with  shrill 
determination. 

20.  How  the  Britishers  scrambled  into  their 
boats  !     One  of  the  brave  officers  was  nearly  left 
behind  on  the  burning  sloop.     Another  fell  over- 
board in  his  haste  to  escape  from  the  American 
army   marching    down    the    beach  —  a    thousand 
strong !     How  the  sailors  pulled  !     No  fancy  row- 
ing now,  but  desperate  haste  to  get  out  of  the 
place  and  escape  to  the  ship. 

7 


96  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

21.  How  the  people  yelled  and  cheered  on  the 
shore  !     Fifty  men  or  more  jumped  into  boats  to 
prepare  for  the  chase.     Ringing  shots  began  to 
crack  over  the  water.     Louder  and  louder  rolled 
the  drum,  clearer  and  clearer  screamed  the  fife. 
Nearly  exhausted,  half  dead  with  fatigue,  the  girls 
toiled  on,  ready  to  drop  on  the  wet  sand,  and  still 
beating  and  blowing  with  fiery  courage. 

22.  The  boats  swept  swiftly  out  of  the  harbor 
on  the   outgoing   tide.     The  fishermen  came  up 
with  the  burning  boats.     Part  stopped  to  put  out 
the  fires,  and  the  rest  pursued  the  flying  enemy, 
with  such  shots  as  they  could  get  at  them.     In 
the  midst  of  it  all  the  sun  went  down. 

23.  The  red-coats  did  not  return  a  shot.    They 
expected  every  minute  to  see  a  thousand  men  open 
upon  them  at  short  range  from  the  beach,  and  they 
reserved  their  powder. 

24.  Out  of  the  harbor  they  went  in  confusion 
and  dismay.     The  ship  weighed  anchor  and  ran 
out  her  big  guns,  but  did  not  fire  a  shot.     Dark- 
ness fell  down  upon  the  scene  as  the  boats  reached 
the  ship.     Then  she  sent  a  round  shot  toward  the 
light.     It  fell  short,  and  threw  a  great  fountain  of 
white  spray  into  the  air. 

25.  The  girls  saw  it,  and,  dropping  their  drum 


HOME  STORIES.  97 

and  fife,  sat  down  on  the  beach,  and  laughed  until 
they  cried.  That  night  the  ship  sailed  away.  The 
great  American  army  of  two  had  arrived,  and  she 
thought  it  wise  to  retreat  in  time  !  Rebecca  lived 

o 

to  a  good  old  age,  and,  when  feeble  in  body,  was 
brave  in  spirit  and  strong  in  patriotism. 

Charles  Barnard.     From  "  St.  Nicholas." 


XXI.-DANIEL    WEBSTER  AS  A  BOY. 

1.  The  father  of  Daniel  Webster  lived  upon  a 
little,  rocky  farm,  in  the  town  of  Salisbury,  New 
Hampshire.     Here  his  two  sons,  Ezekiel  and  Dan- 
iel, lived  until  they  left  home  for  school,  and  for 
the  practice  of  law,  to  which  they  had   devoted 
themselves.      The  farm  was   covered  with  loose 
stones,  and  often,  before  a  crop  could  be  put  in,  the 
stones  on  the  surface  must  be  removed  ;  and  pick- 
ing up  stones  made  the  back  ache  so  that  both  of 
the  boys  hated  it,  and  made  use  of  all  sorts  of 
expedients  to  avoid  it. 

2.  This  hard  work  also  gave  them  a  dislike  to 
all   farm-labor,    and   whenever    they   could   they 
would  slip  away  and   go  a-fishing,  or  engage  io 
some  kind  of  play. 


98 


GRANDPA  THER  *&  STORIES. 


3.  One  day  their  father  was  called  away  on 
court  duties,  to  be  gone  a  week.  He  gave  the 
boys  a  stint,  for  the  six  days'  work,  to  cut  up  a 


field  of  corn  then  just 
ripe.     After  the  work  was  done, 
the  boys  could  have  the  rest  of  the 
time  for  play. 

4.  The  father  departed  early  Monday  morning, 
and  after  breakfast  the  boys  went  out  to  the  corn- 
field. Then  Ezekiel  said :  "  Dan,  we  can  do  this 
work  all  in  three  days  easily  enough ;  let  us  play 
the  first  three  days."  a  All  right,"  said  Dan ;  and 


HOME  STORIES.  99 

away   they  went   and   played    until   Wednesday 
night. 

5.  On  Thursday  morning  they  went  again  to 
the  field  and  took  a  good  look  at  the  task  before 
them.     Then  Ezekiel  said :  "  Dan,  we  can't  do  all 
that  work  in  three   days  anyway ;    so  let's  play 
the  other  three  days."     "  I  am  agreed/'  said  Dan, 
and  the  play  was  continued  till  Saturday  night. 

6.  When  the  old    gentleman   came  home,  he 
passed  by  the  field  and  saw  that  the  work  had 
not  been  done,  and  he  went  into  the  house  wdth 
his  face  like  a   thunder-cloud.     After  supper  he 
called  up  the  boys  to  give  an  account  of  them- 
selves.    "Ezekiel,  what  have  you  been  doing?" 
he  said,  sternly,  as  they  stood  before  him.    "  Noth- 
ing, sir !  "  answered  the  boy,  shaking  in  his  shoes 
at  what  he  expected  would  soon  come.     "  Daniel, 
w^hat  have  you  been  doing  ? "  "  Helping  Zeke  !  " 
answered  Dan,  promptly. 

7.  Dan's  reply  was  so  ready,  and  he  looked  so 
innocent,  that  the  father  could  not  repress  a  smile, 
and  the  boys  were  let  off  from  the  whipping  which 
they  so  richly  deserved.     For  a  long  time  in  the 
neighborhood,  "  Helping  Zeke,"  became  an  expres- 
sion for  laziness  and  neglect  of  duty." 


\  H   S 


XXII. 
STORY  OF  CERVANTES. 

1.  Cervantes  was  born  in  A.  D. 
1547,  at  Alcala  de  Henares,  a 
walled  city  seventeen  miles  north- 
east from  Madrid,  on  the  right  bank 
of  the  river  Hen  ares.  He  was  so  anxious  to  learn 
that  he  never  passed  a  scrap  of  paper,  even  in  the 
streets,  without  picking  it  up  and  reading  what- 
ever was  written  on  it.  He  delighted  in  legends, 
stories  of  dragons  and  enchanters,  and  tales  of  the 
old  Moorish  wars.  He  loved  poetry  and  plays  also. 
2.  One  day,  when  he  was  about  ten  years  old, 
he  was  absent  at  dinner-time,  which  was  not  usual. 
Besides,  the  dinner  was  really  a  festive  one,  and 
that  it  was  to  be  so  the  little  fellow  knew.  First, 
the  soup  was  uncommonly  good,  with  an  extra 
seasoning  of  saffron ;  next  there  were  slices  of 
fresh  fish  fried  in  oil,  with  yolk  of  eggs ;  and, 
lastly,  there  was  asparagus,  with  rich,  red -pep- 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  101 

pered  sausages,  and  a  bottle  of  Valdepennas  wine. 
"  What  can  have  become  of  Miguel  ? "  asked  the 
mother,  over  and  over  again. 

3.  Just  as  the  family  rose  from  the  table,  Cer- 
vantes  came   tearing   along   and   burst   into   the 
room,  exclaiming :  "  I've  seen  him !  I've  seen  him  ! 
Oh,  the  wonderful  Lope  !     Oh,  the  funny  Lope  1 " 

4.  "  The  who,  child  ? "  asked  Madame  Cervan- 
tes.    "Lope  de  Rueda,  mother.     He's  here,  and 
his  men,  and  all  his  things.     I've  seen  them,  every 
one  of  them." 

5.  "  How  was  it,  truly,  and  where  did  you  go, 
and  what  did  you  see  ?  "  asked  Roderigo,  his  elder 
brother. 

6.  "  Why,  I  don't  know  as  it  was,  after  all,  so 
very,  very  grand,"  replied  Miguel.    "  Lope  brought 
his  things  in  a  great  sack.     He  had  four  white 
shepherds'  jackets,  turned  up  with  leather,  gilded 
and  stamped,  some  false  beards  and  hair,  some 
shepherds'  crooks,  and  some  black  paint." 

7.  "  And  where  was  the  theatre  ?  "     "  Oh,  in 
the  court   behind  the  printing-office.     They  put 
four  benches  in  a  square,   and  laid  five   or   six 
boards  across   them.      They   then   fixed    an    old 
blanket  on  cords  for  a  curtain,  and  behind  that 
they  dressed.     The  musicians  sat  there,  too,  and 


102  GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 

sung  old  ballads,  but  without  any  guitar.  There 
are  three  actors  besides  Lope  and  three  musicians. 
May  I  go  again  this  afternoon,  father?  Lope 
asked  the  people  to  go  home  and  get  their  dinner, 
and  come  right  back  again  to  see  another  play." 

8.  The  more  Miguel  went  to  this  fine  theatre 
the  more  he  liked  to  go,  and  his  mother  was  glad 
that  Lope  stayed  only  two  or  three  days  at  a  time, 
and  then  went  away  with  his  jackets,    and  his 
beards,  and  his  old  blankets,  to  Madrid  and  Se- 
ville and  other  towns  about. 

9.  Lope  de  Rueda  founded  the  national  theatre 
of  Spain.     He  wrote  his  own  plays,  and  was  an 
excellent  actor.     Cervantes  was  always  poor,  but 
he  was  diligent,  cheerful,  and  generous.     He  be- 
came famous  as  a  writer  of  plays  and  stories ;  but 
his  greatest  book  is  "  Don  Quixote,"  which  you 
will  read  when  you  are  older.    He  died  A.  D.  1616. 
No  monument  was  raised  to  his  memory  until 
1835,  when  a  bronze  statue  of  him,  larger  than 
life,  was  set  up  in  Madrid. 

Martha  G.  Sleeper.     u  Pictures  of  the  History  of  Spain" 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  103 

XXIII -THE  BOY  WHO  TOOK  A  BOARDER. 

1.  Once  on  a  time,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty 
years  ago,  a  little  boy  stood,  one  morning,  at  the 
door  of  a  palace  in  Florence  and  looked  about  him. 
Why  he  was  standing  there,  I  do  not  know.    Per- 
haps he  was  watching  for  the  butcher  or  the  milk- 
man, for  he  was  a  kitchen-boy  in  the  house-hotel 
of  a  rich  and  mighty  cardinal.     He  was  twelve 
years  old,  and  his  name  was  Thomas. 

2.  Suddenly  he  felt  a  tap  on  his  shoulder  which 
made  him  turn  round  and  exclaim :  "  What !  is  that 
you,  Peter  ?     What  has  brought  you  to  Florence, 
and  how  are  all  the  people  in  Cortona  ? " 

3.  "  They  are  all  well,"  answered  Peter,  who 
likewise  was  a  boy  of   twelve.     "  But   I've   left 
them  for  good.     I'm  tired  of  taking  care  of  sheep. 
I  want  to  be  a  painter.     I've  come  to  Florence  to 
learn  how.     They  say  there's  a  school  here  where 
they  teach  people." 

4.  "  But  have  you  any  money  ? "  asked  Thomas. 
"  Not  a  penny,"  said  Peter.     "  Then  you  can't  be 
a  painter.     You  had  much  better  take  service  in 
the  kitchen  with  me,  here  in  the  palace  ;  you  will 
be  sure  of  not  starving  to  death,"  said  Thomas. 

5.  "I  don't  want  to  take  service,  because  I 


104 


GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 


want  to  be  a  painter,"  said 
Peter.  "But  I  will  tell 
you  what  we  will  do.  As 
you  have  more  than  you 
need  to  eat,  you  shall  take 


Florence  from  the  Uffizi  Palace. 


FOREIGN  STORIES,  105 

me  to  board,  on  trust  at  first,    and  when  I'm  a 
grown-up  painter  I  will  pay  you." 

6.  "  I  think,"  said  Thomas,  "  that  I  can  manage 
it ;  come  up-stairs  to  the  garret,  where  I  sleep,  and 
I'll  bring  you  some  dinner  by-and-by." 

7.  So  the  two  boys  went  up  to  the  little  room 
among  the  chimney-pots,  where  Thomas  slept.     It 
was  very,  very  small,  and  all  the  furniture  in  it 
was  an  old  straw  bed  and  two  rickety  chairs.    But 
the  walls  were  covered  with  a  smooth  white  plaster. 

8.  The  food  was  good  and  plentiful,  for,  when 
Thomas  went  down  into  the  kitchen,  he  found  half 
of  a  fine  mutton-pie  which  had  been  thrown  out. 

9.  After  dinner  Peter  was  ready  to  commence 
work,  but  had  no  paints  nor  brushes,  and  Thomas 
had  no  money  to  buy  them. 

10.  At  last  the  smooth,  white  wall  suggested 
itself  to  Peter,  and,  with  a  charcoal  brought  up 
from  the  kitchen,  he  commenced  to  draw  upon  it. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  he  had  covered  the 
entire  surface  with  a  great  variety  of  beautiful  de- 
signs. 

11.  At  last,  one  happy  day  Thomas  came  in 
possession  of  a  piece  of  silver  money,  which  he  at 
once  paid  out  for  pencils  and  paper  for  Peter. 
Then  the  young  artist  changed  his  life  a  little. 


/  Street  Scene  in  Florence.  ~ 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  107 

He  went  out  early  every  morning  and  wandered 
about  Florence,  and  drew  everything  that  attracted 
his  attention.  In  this  way  he  came  in  possession 
of  the  pictures  of  churches,  the  fronts  of  palaces, 
the  statues  in  the  public  squares,  and  of  the  hills 
beyond  the  Arno.  Then,  when  it  became  too  dark 
to  work  any  longer,  Peter  would  go  home  to  his 
boarding-house  and  find  his  dinner  all  nicely 
tucked  away  under  the  old  straw  bed  to  keep  it 
warm. 

12.  Things  went  on  in  this  way  for  nearly  two 
years.     None  of  the  servants  knew  that  Thomas 
kept  a  boarder.    The  cook  used  to  remark  that 
Thomas  ate  a  good  deal  for  a  lad  of  his  size,  but 
he  didn't  seem  to  grow  much. 

13.  One  day  the  cardinal  set  about  making  re- 
pairs upon  his  palace.    He  went  over  the  house  in 
company  with  an  architect,  and  while  in  the  attic 
he  went  into  the  lodging-room  of  the  two  boys. 

14.  Here  he  saw  the  fine  pictures  on  the  walls 
drawn  in  charcoal.    "  Who  occupies  this  room  ?'''  he 
demanded.    "  The  kitchen-boy,  Thomas,  your  Em- 
inence."    "  Call  the  kitchen-boy  here,  then." 

15.  Thomas  came  up  with  fear  and  trembling. 
He  had  never  been  in  the  mighty  cardinal's  pres- 
ence before.     He  looked  at  the  drawings,  and  his 


108  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

heart  sank  within  him.  He  fell  on  his  knees  and 
begged  that  he  might  remain.  "  But,"  said  the 
cardinal,  "the  boy  who  can  draw  these  pictures  is 
an  artist,  he  should  not  stay  in  the  kitchen." 

16.  "  Oh  !  I  did  not  make  the  pictures ;  it  was 
Peter  who  did  that."    "  But,  who  is  Peter  ? "  said  the 
cardinal.     "  He  is  my  old  play-mate  from  Cortona, 
who  came  to  me  when  his  father  and  mother  died." 
"  Where  is  he  now  ? "    "  Out  in  the  streets  studying 
and  drawing,"  answered  Thomas.     "  Send  him  to 
me  as  soon  as  he  returns,"  said  his  Eminence,  as  he 
left  the  room. 

17.  But,  strange  to  say,  that  night  Peter  did 
not  return.     One  week,  two  weeks  went  by,  and 
still  nothing  was  heard  of  him.     At  the  end  of 
that  time  the  cardinal  made  a  search  for  him,  and 
found  him  in  a  convent. 

18.  It  seems  he  found  one  of  Raffaelle's  pict- 
ures there,  and  asked  permission  to  copy  it.     The 
monks,  charmed  by  the  simplicity  and  talent  dis- 
played by  the  little  artist,  readily  consented,  and 
while  at  work  they  invited  him  to  eat  at  their 
table  and  to  sleep  in  one  of  their  apartments. 

19.  The  cardinal  found  Peter  a  cheerful  and 
happy  little  boy,  resolved  to  become  a  painter. 
He  sent  him  to  the  best  schools  of  Florence,  where 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  109 

art  was  taught,  and  Thomas  was  sent  to  a 
school  of  another  character,  and  afterward  became 
the  personal  attendant  of  the  cardinal  while  he 
lived. 

20.  Fifty  years  later  two  old  men  lived  to< 
gether  in  one  of  the  most  beautiful  houses  in  Flor- 
ence. They  were  the  two  boys  whose  friendship 
had  never  ceased,  and  Peter  was  the  most  noted 
artist  of  his  age.  Their  lives  were  beautiful. 

Charlotte  Adams.     From  u  St.  Nicholas. 


XXIY.-COLUMBUS  AT  THE  CONVENT. 

1.  Dreary  and  brown  the  night  comes  down, 

Gloomy,  without  a  star. 
On  Palos  town  the  night  comes  down ; 
The  day  departs  with  stormy  frown ; 

The  sad  sea  moans  afar. 

2.  A  convent-gate  is  near ;  'tis  late ; 

Ting-ling !  the  bell  they  ring. 
They  ring  the  bell,  they  ask  for  bread — 
"  Just  for  my  child,"  the  father  said. 

Kind  hands  the  bread  will  bring. 


110 


GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 


3.  White  was  his  hair, 
his  mien  was  fair, 
His  look  was  calm 

and  great. 

The  porter  ran  and  called  a  friar  ; 
The  friar  made  haste  and  told  the  prior ; 
The  prior  came  to  the  gate. 

He  took  them  in,  he  gave  them  food ; 
The  traveler's  dreams  he  heard ; 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  HI 

And  fast  the  midnight  moments  flew, 
And  fast  the  good  man's  wonder  grew, 
And  all  his  heart  was  stirred0 

50  The  child  the  while,  with  soft,  sweet  smile, 

Forgetful  of  all  sorrow, 
Lay  soundly  sleeping  in  his  bed. 
The  good  man  kissed  him  then,  and  said : 
"  You  leave  us  not  to-morrow  ! 

6.  "  I  pray  you,  rest  the  convent's  guest  ; 

This  child  shall  be  our  own— 
A  precious  care,  while  you  prepare 
Your  business  with  the  court,  and  bear 

Your  message  to  the  throne." 

7.  And  so  his  guest  he  comforted. 

O  wise,  good  prior  !  to  you, 
Who  cheered  the  stranger's  darkest  days, 
And  helped  him  on  his  way,  what  praise 

And  gratitude  are  due ! 

Ja  T.  Trowlridge. 


j  12  GRANDPA  THEE  '#  STORIES. 

XXV.- THE  ANGEL  OF  THE  CAMP. 

1.  Far  away   in    distant    Switzerland,    many 
years  ago,  the   setting  sun  was   shining  on  the 
small   fortress  of   Ermatingen.      Sentinels  paced 
the    walls,  and    warders    looked    out    from    the 
towers ;   but  the  other  soldiers  sought  their  own 
pleasure. 

2.  Some  were  wrestling  or  leaping  in  the  court, 
some  were  making  snow-shoes,  some  cleaning  their 
armor.    Here  and  there  a  group  of  men  were  mak- 
ing a  supper  of  black  bread,  wine,  and  smoked 
venison.     A  few  were  listening  to  a  song  which 
the  harper  called  the  "  Lay  of  the  Lily." 

3.  A  little  apart  from  the  rest,  a  father  and 
child  sat  together.     Before  them,  on  a  huge  block 
of  wood,  was  a  small  silver  cup  partly  filled  with 
goat's  milk,  a  silver  plate  with  a  few  crumbs  of 
white  bread  upon  it,  and  the  remains  of  a  much 
humbler  supper  in  a  tin  can  or  flagon,  and  a  wood- 
en bowl. 

4.  Little  Misa  Saulptien  was  never  long  absent 
from  her  father.     In  times  of  peace  she  was  al- 
ways seen  trudging  beside  him  to  church  and  mar- 
ket.    She  helped  him  to  sow  the  grain,  to  weed 
the  garden,  and  to  keep  off  the  birds.    When  dan- 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  113 

ger  to  Switzerland  called  him  to  tlie  camp,  she 
was  still  at  his  side. 

5.  In  summer  nights,  when  he  kept  guard  on 
the  wall,  she  slept  within  his  watch.     When  the 
soldiers  were  sick  or  wounded,  it  was  Misa  who 
brought   cold    water   for   the   parched    lip,    who 
bathed  the  fevered   brow.     Many  were  the  mes- 
sages which  she  carried  to  the  families  at  home 
from  their  loved  ones  on  the  battle-field.    She  was 
so  gentle  and  so  brave  that  her  father's  comrades 
called  her  the  "  Angel  of  the  Camp,"  and  the  rudest 
among  them  would  have  risked  his  life  for  her. 

6.  The  shadiest  nook  in  summer,  the  warmest 
spot  in  winter,  were  always  hers.     The  priest  gave 
her  his  blessing  as  he  passed  by,  and  every  one 
had  for  her  a  kind  word. 

7.  When    Misa    had   finished   her   meal,    she 
seated  herself  on  her  father's  knee,  and  gravely 
darned  his  tunic,  while  he  told  her  stories  of  his 
boyhood.     By  and  by  the   soldiers  one,  by  one, 
went  off  to  sleep,  wrapped  in  skins  of  bear  or  wolf, 
or  in  thick  blankets.     Misa  and  her  father  with- 
drew to  a  deep  recess  in  the  wall  near  the  huge 
chimney,  before  which  a  curtain  was  drawn,  and 
quickly  fell  asleep  on  a  bed  of  mountain  moss. 

8.  The  first  watch  had  not  quite  passed,  and 


114  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

all  but  the  sentinels  were  buried  in  sound  slum 
ber.  It  was  very  dark.  A  strong  wind  had 
sprung  up,  which  roared  among  the  pines,  and 
brought  with  it  the  sound  of  far-off  cataracts 
plunging  and  leaping  among  the  cliffs.  Silently 
the  Austrians  drew  near.  Silently  they  placed 
scaling-ladders  against  the  walls.  Stealthily  they 
mounted  one  by  one.  The  sentinels  were  over- 
powered, without  alarming  the  garrison.  Not  till 
the  enemy  filled  the  courts  did  the  Swiss  awaken. 
There  was  a  few  minutes  of  fierce  fighting,  and  all 
was  over.  The  Austrians  had  captured  the  for- 
tress. 

9.  John  Saulptien,  when  awakened,  snatched 
up  his  child,  threw  a  blanket  around  her,  and, 
fighting  his  way  to  a  gate  which  had  been  opened 
by  the  Austrians,  bade  her  flee  for  her  life.  Misa 
had  not  been  quite  undressed,  and  had  hurried  on 
her  thick  stockings  and  wooden  shoes  at  the  first 
sound ;  so,  with  the  blanket  around  her,  she  did 
not  care  for  the  snow.  Fortunately,  the  tempest 
was  soon  over.  She  was  not  afraid  of  the  mid- 
night or  the  forest.  On,  on  she  sped,  her  little 
feet  scarcely  touching  the  frozen  path.  If  she 
could  but  reach  the  village,  she  thought,  her  fa- 
ther might  be  saved.  On,  on  she  went  through 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  115 

the  gloom,  the  bitter  cold,  the  fearful  loneliness— 
on,  on ! 

10.  And  she  did  reach  the  village.     Going  as 
near  the  gate  as  possible,  she  called,  "  Watchman, 
let  me  in  ! " 

11.  "Who    speaks?"    asked    the    watchman, 
stooping   down   to    catch   the    soft,  young    voice 
which  came  up. 

12.  "It  is  I,  Misa  Satilptien,  good  Ambrose. 
Please  let  me  in." 

13.  "Misa  Saulptien!"  he  repeated,  still  lin- 
gering, for  these  were   dangerous  times,  and  he 
feared  treachery.     "  Are  you  alone  ?     How  came 
you  here  at  this  time  of  night  ? " 

14.  "I  am   all  alone.      The   cruel  Austrians 
have   broken   into   the   fortress,  and   are   killing 
everybody.     Oh,  do  let  me  in  !     I  am  freezing." 

15.  The  captain  of  the  guard  at  the  gate  knew 
Misa's  voice,  and  ordered  the  gate  to  be  opened. 
"Carefully,   carefully,"    he    said — "only    a  little 
way." 

16.  It  was  done,  and  poor  Misa  was  drawn  in. 
Before  she  had  finished  telling  even  the  little  that 
she  knew,  the  alarm-bell  was  ringing,  lights  were 
gleaming    from    the    windows,  and   people   were 
flocking  round  with  eager  questions.     Misa's  voice 


116  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

grew  faint,  however,  and  they  took  her  into  the 
nearest  house,  rubbed  her  weary  limbs  till  they 
were  warm,  gave  her  a  nice  bath,  and  then  made 
her  swallow  some  warm  drink,  into  which  they 
put  a  sleeping  powder.  She  tossed  and  moaned 
for  a  time,  then  she  slept  quietly  till  noon  the  next 
day. 

17.  Meantime   stout   Thomas    Pregall,    Rusca 
Lambra,  and  Orelli,  mounted  on  horseback,  and 
went  forth  to  warn  the  neighboring  villages. 

18.  The   story  rang   like  a  trumpet-call  over 
the  hills  and  through  the  valleys.     It  echoed  from 
the  mountains.     It  was  borne  over  bright  lakes 
and  broad  rivers.    Two  thousand  Swiss  hastily  col- 
lected and  marched  to  the  wood  of  Schwaderlochs. 
They  feared  nothing,  although  eighteen  thousand 
of  the  enemy  lay  there !  "  Remember  Ermatingen !" 
sounded  from  wing  to  wing.     Countless  were  the 
deeds  of   valor  done.      More    than   one   Switzer 
matched  himself  with  thirty  Austrians.    At  length, 
driven   slowly   but    surely   from   every   position, 
shot  down,  struck  down,  hewn  down,  the  Austrians 
turned  and  fled.    The  city  gates  of  Constance  were 
not  wide  enough  for  the  fugitives.     Within  eight 
months    the    Swiss  were  victorious    in   as   many 
battles.     Maximilian,  the  German  emperor,  was  at 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  117 

last  willing  to  conclude  a  peace,  which  he  did  at 
Basle,  September  22,  A.  D.  1499. 

Martha  G.  Sleeper.     Adapted  from  u  True  Stories  from  the  History 
of  the  Swiss." 


XXV I. -A  NIGHT  IN  THE  SNOW. 

1.  In  Norway  and  Sweden  the  winters  are  very 
cold,  and  the  ground  is  covered  deep  with  snow, 
which  often  is  blown  into  great  heaps  or  drifts. 
People  live  on  farms  or  in  small  villages,  which 
are  far  apart,  and  when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground 
there  is  little  traveling  on  account  of  the  drifts. 
At  stations  along  the  principal  roads  horses  are 
kept  for  travelers,  and  guides  are  ready  to  drive 
from  one  post  to  another.     Even  little  boys  learn 
to  drive,  and  become  safe  guides.     Bayard  Taylor, 
wThile  traveling  through  this  country  in  winter, 
came  to  a  station  quite  late  in  the  afternoon,  and 
found  the  station-master  gone.     The  only  one  to 
drive  the  horse  through  the  cold  night  was  Lars, 
the  son  of  the  station-master,  a  boy  about  twelve 
years  old. 

2.  Mr.  Taylor  says :  "  His  face  was  rosy,  his 
eyes  clear  and  round  and  blue,  and  his  golden 


118  GRANDPA  TEER  'S  STORIES. 

hair  was  blown  back  from  his  face  in  silky  curls. 
'Come  here,  Lars/  I  said.  'Are  you  not  afraid 
to  go  so  far  to-night  ? '  His  mother  said  :  '  You 
need  not  fear,  sir ;  Lars  is  young,  but  he  will  take 
you  safe  enough.' 

3.  "  The  boy  put  on  a  sheep-skin  overcoat,  tied 
the  lappets  of  his  fur  cap  under  his  chin,  and  a 
thick  woolen  scarf  around  his  head  and  face,  so 
that  only  his  round  eyes  were  visible,  and  was 
ready  to  start.     He  had  filled  the  sled  with  fresh, 
soft  hay,  and  spread  reindeer-skins  over  us  as  we 
cuddled  together  on  the  narrow  seat. 

4.  "The  night  was  dark,  the  snow  blew,  and 
the  fir-trees  roared  all  around  us.     Lars  knew  the 
way,  and  kept  the  beaten  track.     So  we  went  on, 
up  hill  and  down,  for  a  long  time,  and  I  began  to 
grow  very  chilly,  when  Lars  handed  me  the  reins, 
and  began  to  beat  his  hands  to  keep  the  blood 
flowing. 

5.  "  The  wind  blew  harder  every  minute,  and 
at  last,  in  the  darkness,  Lars  missed  the  road,  the 
horse  sinking  into  the  deep  snow.     Lars  got  out 
and  tried  to  find  the  path  again,  but  he  soon  came 
back  and  said,  'I  can  not  find  the  road,  and  I 
think  we  must  stay  here  all  night.' 

6.  "  '  We  shall  freeze  to  death  in  an  hour  ! '  I 


Scene  in  Norway. 


120  GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 

cried.  I  was  already  chilled  to  the  bone.  The 
wind  had  made  me  very  drowsy,  and  I  knew  if  I 
slept  I  should  soon  be  frozen. 

7.  " '  Oh,  no  ! "  said  little  Lars,  '  we  north  peo- 
ple never  freeze.     I  went  to  the  bear-hunt  last  win- 
ter, and  we  were  out  several  nights  in  the  snow.' 
4  What  will  you  do  % '  said  I.     '  Let  me  take  care 
of  the  pony  first,'  said  Lars ;  '  we  can  spare  him 
some  hay  and  one  reindeer-skin.' 

8.  "  We  then  unharnessed  the  horse,  and  Lars 
led  him  under  the  drooping  branches  of  a  fir-tree, 
tied  him  to  one  of  them,  gave  him  an  armful  of 
hay,  and  covered  him  with  the  reindeer-skin. 

9.  "  When  this  was  done,  Lars  spread  the  rest 
of  the  hay  evenly  over  the  bottom  of  the  sled  and 
covered  it  with  the  skins,  which  he  tucked  in  very 
closely  on  the  side  toward  the  wind.     Then  lift- 
ing them  on  the  other  side  he  said,  '  Now  take  off 
your  fur  coat  quick,  lay  it  over  the  hay,  and  creep 
under  it.' 

10.  "I  obeyed  as  soon  as  possible.     For  an  in- 
stant my  teeth  chattered  in  the  icy  air,  but  the 
next  moment  I  was  under  the  robe  and  out  of 
reach  of  the  storm.     Lars  then  took  off  his  coat 
and  crept  in  beside  me.     We  then  drew  down  the 
skins  and  pressed  the  hay  against  them  so  that  no 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  121 

air  could  get  in.  Then  Lars  said  we  must  pull 
off  our  boots  and  loosen  our  clothes  so  they  would 
not  feel  tight  anywhere.  When  this  was  done,  we 
lay  close  together,  warming  each  other.  In  a 
short  time  the  chill  passed  away,  and  I  lay  as 
snugly  as  in  the  best  bed.  In  five  minutes  we 
were  asleep. 

11.  "I  did  not  wake  during  the  night,  and  Lars 
slept  equally  sound.     I  was  aroused  by  the  cold 
wind  striking  my  face,  and  I  found  Lars  peeping 
out  from  under  the  skins.     '  I  think  it  must  be 
near  six  o'clock,'  he  said ;  '  the  sky  is  clear,  and  I 
can  see  the  big  star.     We  can  start  in  another 
hour.' 

12.  "While  we  were  talking,  we  heard  shouts 
and  the  crack  of  whips,  and  we  found  the  farmers 
had  come  out  with  six  pairs  of  horses  and  a  great 
snow-plow  to  clear  the  road.     This  opened  the 
way,  and  in  about  an  hour  we  reached  the  station, 
where  a  good  fire  and  a  warm  breakfast  were  ready 
for  us.     Here  I   parted  from  the  little  boy  who 
had  showed  such  courage  and  patience  during  the 
dreary  night  in  the  snow,  and  I  felt  like  parting 
from  an  old  and  tried  friend." 


122  G&ANDFATHE&S  STORIES. 

XXYII-AN  OLD    VETERAN. 

1.  You   have   all    read    stories   of   wonderful 
dogs,    horses,    and    elephants,    and    perhaps    you 
know  that  the  elephant  is  a  very  wise  animal — a 
noted  French  writer  says,  the  wisest.     I  want  to 
tell  you  a  true  story  about  a  big  fellow  who  came 
from  India,  and  who  was  called  "  Re."     This  was 
about  the  year  1815 ;  if  he  were  living  now,  he 
would  be  at  least  one  hundred  years  old.     An  old 
Scotch  gentleman  told  me  this  story,  and  I  will 
give  it  to  you  in  his  own  words  : 

2.  "  When  my  father  was  stationed  at  Fort 
George,  Scotland,  with  his  company  of  the  Royal 
Artillery,   the    Seventy-eighth    Mackenzie   High- 
landers  arrived   from   Burmah,  exchanging  with 
the  Eighteenth  Royal  Irish.     I  was  a  little  fellow 
at  the  time,  but  recollect  the  circumstance  as  well 
as  if  it  happened  a  week  ago.     When  the  regi- 
ment appeared,  marching  through  the  gates  of  the 
garrison,  a  large  and  powerful  elephant  was  at 
their  head  and  before  the  band,  with  a  monkey 
sitting  on  his  head,  both  clothed  with   the  Mac- 
kenzie tartan — the  tartan  of  the  regiment. 

3.  "When  the  command  was  given  to  'Halt! 
Front ! '  the  elephant  was  in  position  as  quickly 


Dig  I 


124  GRANDFATHERS  STORIES. 

as   the    regiment,    the   monkey   capering   on    his 
back. 

4.  "  On  every  occasion  of  the  regiment  turn 
ing  out,  Re  was  in  his  place. 

5.  "  The  elephant  would  go  through  the  ordi- 
nary drill   as  well  as   the  men,  whether  it  was 
'  Right  face ! '    'Right  about  face ! '    <  Right-  or  left- 
wheel.'  'Front!'  'Mark  time.'  ' March! '—the large 
drum  giving  the  tap.     The  elephant  stepped  out 
in  front  of   the  band  always;    and  the  monkey 
would  get  up  on  his  back  as  quickly  as  the  word 
*  March  ! '  was  given. 

6.  "When  the  regiment  came  to  a  halt  and 
rest,  when  marching  about  the  wild  country,  Re 
would  saunter  about  the  men." 

7.  It  is  about  this  same  elephant  that  the  story 
is  told  of  his  going  about  through  the  streets  of 
Edinburgh,  and,  as  old  Re  was  well  known  in  the 
city,  even  to  little  children,  no  one  was  frightened 
when  they  saw  him  marching  along,  and  often  gave 
him  things  to  eat — ginger  nuts,  sugar,  or  whatever 
they  had  that  they  thought  he  would  like.     But 
one  day  he  met  with  a  very  different  reception 
from  what  he  was  used  to.    He  was  passing  where 
a  tailor  was  sitting  at  his  bench,  stitching  away  on 
some  cloth.     He  probably  said,  "  Come  here,  Re, 


FOREIGN  STORIES. 


125 


old  fellow,  and  I'll  give  you  something  nice,"  for 
Master  Elephant  put  out  his  trunk ;  but,  instead 
of  a  lump  of  sugar,  the  tailor  gave  him  a  stab  with 
his  needle.  Now,  Re  was  quite  big  enough  to 
pick  up  the  tailor  and  carry  him  off,  or  stamp  on 
him ;  but,  instead  of  that,  he  did  what  might  be 
called  "  paying  him  off  in  the  same  coin,"  for  he 
went  to  a  place  where  there  was  some  dirty  water, 
and  filling  his  trunk  full  of  it,  marched  back  to 
Mr.  Tailor's  house,  and,  when  opposite  to  his  bench, 
sent  all  the  water  he  had  in  his  trunk  over  the 
man.  Can't  you  imagine  how  surprised  the  man 

must       have 
been    to    re- 
ceive  such  a 
water  -  spout 
over        him  ? 
I'm    sure   he 
did   not   like 
the  treatment  very  well, 
and  I  don't  believe  he 
ever   forgot   the   lesson 
the  elephant  gave  him. 

8.  This  incident  is 
on  record  in  the  books 
of  the  regiment. 


126 


GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 


XXVIII -A  SNOW-KING. 

1.  Casper  was  his 
name.     He  lived  on  a 
very   higli   mountain 
—so   high   that  his 
home  was  almost  in 
the  region  of  eternal 
snow.      Indeed,  he 
could  almost  always 
find  snow  six  or  seven 
feet  deep  without  going 
far  from  the  door.      But 
Casper  did  not  care  particu- 
larly for  such  snow.      He  was  used  to  it. 

2.  It  was   only  when  the   great  storms  came, 
and  the  snow-drifts  piled  up  forty  feet  high  against 
the  walls  of  the  old  house,  and  the  snow-flakes  fell 
and  fell  and  fell,  as  if  they  would  never  stop  until 
they  had  filled  up  all  the  valleys  with  their  pow- 
dery whiteness,  that   Casper   felt   at  all  anxious 
about  the  depth  of  snow. 

3.  At  such  times,  however,  he  was  very  apt 
to  put  himself  to   a   great  deal  of   trouble  and 
anxiety  about  the  snow.     He  didn't  mind  snow- 
storms himself,  because  he  was  a  snow-king ;  but 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  127 

there  were  people  who  did  mind  them,  and  it  was 
about  these  people  that  he  concerned  himself. 

4.  Casper  was  a  dog,  and  he  lived  with  the 
monks  in  the  monastery  of  St.  Bernard,  far  up  on 
t  je  Alps — the  very  highest  dwelling  in  that  great 
range  of  mountains.     You  have  heard  of  these 
great  St.  Bernard  dogs;  but  if  you  have  never 
seen  Casper  you  can  have  no  idea  how  grand  a  dog 
can  be — that  is,  if  he  happen  to  be  a  snow-king. 

5.  And  Casper  was  a  king  of  the  snow,  every 
inch  of  him.      Sometimes,  when   the   skies  were 
tolerably  clear,  and  here  and  there  there  was  a  lit- 
tle sunshine  on  the  hardy  grasses  that  grew  about 
the  rocks  of  the  monastery,  when  the  snow  was 
good  enough  to  give  them  a  chance  to  show  them- 
selves, Casper  would  trot  around  very  much  like 
an  ordinary  dog,  and  lie  down  and  take  a  com- 
fortable nap  in  a  sunny  spot  among  the  shadows 
of  the  grand  old  Alps,  as  quietly  as  if  he  had 
never  heard  of  glaciers  and  avalanches,  and  had 
never  thought  of  such  a  thing  as  people  perishing 
in  the  snow. 

6.  Now,  Casper  was  not  a  very  old  dog,  and 
he  had  already  saved  two  lives.     And  yet  he  was 
not  proud — or,  at  any  rate,  he  did  not  show  it. 
In  fact,  if  you  had  seen  him  jogging  around  the 

9 


128  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

monastery,  you  might  never  have  thought  that 
he  was  a  king  of  any  kind — much  less  such  an 
important  monarch  as  a  snow-king.  For  almost 
any  intelligent  person  might  make  a  pretty  good 
king  of  the  ordinary  kind,  but  kings  of  the  snow 
are  very  scarce  indeed. 

7.  One  day  it  began  to  snow,  early  in   the 
morning,  up  on  the  mountains.     It .  did  not  snow 
very  hard  at  first,  but  people  who  were  weather- 
wise  thought  there  would  be  quite  a  storm  after 
a  while.     As  the  day  wore  on,  it  became  colder 
and   colder,   and  the  wind  began   to   freeze   the 
snow-flakes  into  little  icy  lumps,   and  it  hurled 
them  like  showers  of  bullets  across  the  valleys 
and  over  the  mountain-peaks. 

8.  Although  the  wind  roared  sometimes  round 
the  craggy  corners,  and  showers  of  icy  shot  would 
now  and  then  rattle  against  some  frozen  crusts  of 
snow,  the  mountains  seemed  quiet  and  certainly 
they  were  desolate.     Up  on  the  mountain- side  lay 
vast  masses  of  snow  and  ice  that  were  growing 
heavier  and  heavier  as  the  snow  fell  faster  and 
faster.     These  were  all  ready  to  come  thundering 
and   crashing  down   into   the   valley  below,  and 
seemed  only  waiting  for  the  signal  to  begin  their 
mad  rush  down  the  mountain-side. 


FOREIGN  STOEIES.  129 

9.  For  when  these  great  masses  of  snow  and 
ice  are  piled  up  in  this  way  in  the  Alps,  it  often 
requires  but  a  very  little  thing  to  start  them  off. 
Sometimes  a  loud  word,  or  the  breaking  of  a  stick, 
or  a  heavy  footstep,  will  jar  the  air  or  snow  suffi- 
ciently to   send   an   avalanche   on   its   way.      It 
would  hardly  be  supposed  that  on  such  a  day  as 
this    any   one  would    be   out-of-doors ;    but,    not- 
withstanding the  bad  weather  and  the  promise  of 
worse  weather   to  come,  on  that  afternoon  there 
were  five  persons  toiling  up  the  road  toward  the 
monastery. 

10.  Four  of  these  were  men,  and  one  was  a 
boy  about   fourteen   years   old.     His   name  was 
Paolo  Vennatti,  and  he  lived  down  the  mountain- 
side some  miles  below  the  place  where  we  find 
him   on   this   snowy   afternoon.      For   a   day   or 
two,  Paolo  had  been  very  anxious  about  the  fate 
of   a   stray   goat   which    he    believed    could   be 
found    up    the    mountain,    and    probably   at   or 
near  the  monastery  of  St.  Bernard.     So  when  that 
afternoon   four  men  stopped  at  Paolo's  home  to 
rest  a  little  before  continuing  their  journey  over 
the  Alps,  by  the  way  of  the  St.  Bernard   Pass, 
the  boy  determined  to  go  with  them  as  far  as  the 
monastery. 


130  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

11.  He  did  not  say  anything  to  his  parents 
about  his  plan,  for  he  had  heard  his  father  tell 
the  men  that  it  would  be  foolhardy  to  attempt  to 
cross  the  mountains  that  day,  when  it  was  not 
only  snowing,  but  the  wind  was  blowing  at  such  a 
terrific  rate  that  it  would  be  certain  to  start  an 
avalanche  somewhere  on  the  road. 

12.  "  And    you    know    well    enough    that  it 
doesn't  need   much   of   a  wind  to  start   an   ava- 
lanche,"  said  Paolo's  mother.     "  But  the  wind's 
been  blowing  all  the  morning  and  half  the  night," 
said  one  of  the  men ;  "  and,  if  there  were  any  ava- 
lanches to  start,  they  would  be  on  their  way  be- 
fore this." 

13.  So  the  four  men  started  off  just  after  din- 
ner, and  Paolo  slipped  out  after  them  and  joined 
them  when  they  had  got  out  of  sight  of  the  house. 
One  of  the  men  wanted  him  to  go  back,  but  the 
others   said  that  he  might  as  well   come   if   he 
chose — it  wasn't  snowing  so  very  hard,  and,  if  he 
wanted  to  find  his  goat  as  much  as  he  said  he 
did,  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should  not  try 
to  do  it. 

14.  So  they  all  trudged  on,  and   nothing  of 
any  importance  happened  for  an  hour.     They  did 
not  have  much  difficulty  in  making  their  way,  for 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  131 

the  snow-storm  seemed  to  be  decreasing,  and  the 
wind  was  certainly  going  down.  But  all  of  a 
sudden  something  very  astonishing  happened. 

15.  A  violent  gust  of  wind  seemed  to  leap 
from  around  the  corner  of  a  tall  mass  of  rock  and 
crags,  and  in  its  arms  it  carried  a  vast  cloud  of 
snow,  which  it  raised  in  the  air  and  hurled  down 
upon   our   travelers,  who  were  instantly  buried 
from  sight.     This  was  one  of  the  terrible  whirl- 
winds which  often  occur  in  the  Alps,  when  great 
volumes  of  newly  fallen  snow  are  carried  through 
the  air  and  thrown  here  or  there  in  masses  many 
feet  in  depth. 

16.  It  was  as  sudden  as  a  flash  of  lightning. 
One  moment  Paolo  was  walking  cheerfully  along 
the  road,  and  in  the  next  he  was  buried  deep 
under  an  immense  heap  of  snow  !     For  a  moment 
he  did  not  know  what  had  happened — it  seemed 
as  if  he  had  been  struck  blind.     He  was  not  hurt, 
but  the  world  had  suddenly  disappeared  from  his 
sight. 

17.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  he  knew 
what  had  happened.     There  was  snow  above  and 
below  him — snow  in  his  eyes,  snow  in  his  ears 
and  nose  and  mouth.     He  could  not  get  up  be- 
cause there  was  snow  on  top  of  him,  and,  when 


132  GRANDFATHER'S  8TCRIE8. 

he  tried  to  get  his  legs  under  him,  he  could  find 
no  support  for  his  feet,  for  there  was  nothing  but 
soft  snow  beneath  him.  He  could  breathe,  but 
that  was  about  all  he  could  do. 

18.  Paolo  soon  felt  himself  sinking  lower  and 
lower  in  the  soft  snow.     He  tried  again  to  get  his 
feet  straight  down  under  him,  and  this  time  they 
touched  something  hard.     He  knew  then  that  he 
stood  on  the  ground.     He  had  no  idea  how  much 
snow  was  piled  up  over  him,  nor  did  he  think 
much  about  it.     Now  that  he  could  get  his  feet 
on  something  firm,  all  that  he  thought  of  was  to 
push  or  scratch  himself  out  of  that  bed  of  snow 
just  as  fast  as  he  could.     He  thrust  his  feet  against 
the  ground ;  he  leaned  forward  and  scratched  and 
dug  with  his  hands  and  arms  like  a  little  terrier 
after  a  rat.     He  kicked,  and  rolled,  and  pushed, 
and  dug,  and  sputtered  snow  out  of  his  mouth, 
and  so  scratched  his  way  along  for  several  yards. 
Then  he  suddenly  stumbled  out  into  the  open  air, 
and  went  plump  down  a  precipice  ! 

19.  He  did  not  know  how  far  he  fell,  but  he 
knew  that  he  went  back-foremost  into  a  bed  of 
snow  with  a  crust  on  it,  through  which  he  broke 
with  a  gentle  crunch,  as  when  you  throw  a  stone 
through  a  pane  of  glass.     The  snow  under  the 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  133 

crust  was  not  very  hard,  and  his  fall  only  jarred 
him  a  little.  And  yet  the  snow  was  packed  hard 
enough  to  give  him  a  chance  to  crawl  out  of  the 
hole  he  had  made  and  to  look  around  him. 

20.  He  found  that  he  was  on  an  old  bed  of 
snow  that  lay  on  a  ledge  twenty  feet  below  the 
road,  and  from  which  the  fresh   snow  had  been 
blown.     The   mass    of    snow   which    had    over- 
whelmed him  and  his  companions  he  could  see 
piled  up  on  the  road  above  him.     If  another  gust 
of  wind  should  come  around  that  corner,  it  might 
be  blown  down  upon  him  and  cover  him  again. 

21.  So  he  hurriedly  scrambled  to  his  feet  and 
tried  to  get  away  from  under  that  steep  precipice 
with  its  great  cap  of   snow.     But  he  could  not 
go  very  far.     The  crust  broke  beneath  him  very 
often;  there  were  hollow  places  filled  with  new 
snow,  through  which  he  could  scarcely  push  his 
way;   it  was  snowing  faster  and  faster,  and  he 
was  very  cold.     He  could  not  climb  up  to  the 
road,  and,  if  he  could  have  done  so,  there  was  that 
great  mass  of   snow  out   of  which  he  had  been 
glad  to  get.     He  did  not  know  what  to  do ;  so  he 
sat  down. 

22.  Then  he  drew  up  his  knees  and  tried  to 
get  warm,  and  think.     He  could  not  get  warm, 


134:  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

but  he  could  think  very  easily.  He  thought 
about  his  parents,  and  what  a  wretch  he  was  to 
come  away  from  them  as  he  had  done.  What 
was  a  goat,  after  all,  that  he  should  risk  his  life 
for  it?  And  yet  he  did  not  know,  when  he 
started,  that  he  was  risking  his  life ;  though  that 
was  no  matter  now,  for  he  had  done  it,  and 
there  was  no  going  back.  Here  he  was,  alone 
in  the  midst  of  the  great  Alps.  It  was  dread- 
fully solemn  and  cold.  The  air  was  full  of  the 
smell  of  snow — snow  beneath  him  and  all  around ' 
him. 

23.  Above  him,  too  ;  for  it  was  falling  on  him 
until  he  looked  like  a  little  snow-boy  as  he  sat 
there  drawn  up  in  a  bunch.     He  did  not  expect 
any  help  now.     He  knew  the  Alps  too  well  to 
suppose,  even  if  his  companions  had  succeeded  in 
getting  out  of   that   snow-drift,  that  they  could 
find  him  where  he  was.      He  could  not  shout. 
His   lips   and   tongue    seemed   frozen  stiff.      He 
could  not  see  very  far. 

24.  He  began  to  feel  a  little  warmer  now,  and 
drowsy.     He  knew  that,  if  he  went  to  sleep,  he 
would  never  wake  again.     But  he  did  not  care ; 
he  might  as  well  be  comfortable.     And  there  was 
nobody  on  earth  who  could  save  him.     If  any- 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  135 

body  came  to  him  there,  he  would  die  too ! 
The  best  thing  he  could  do  would  be  to  go  to 
sleep.  In  all  the  whole  world  there  was  no  one 
who  could  save  this  poor  boy — that  is,  if  you  did 
not  count  in  Casper,  the  snow-king.  He  could  do 
it,  and  he  did  do  it. 

25.  Right  through  the  snow-storm  came  that 
great   beast !      Rushing   over   the   frozen    crust, 
plunging   through    the   deep   places ;    bounding, 
leaping,  caring  not  for  drift  or  storm,  like  a  snow- 
king  as  he  was,  came  Casper !      He   made  one 
dash  at  Paolo  and  rolled  him  over  in  the  snow. 
Then  he  barked  at  him,  as  much  as  to  say :  "  Wake 
up,  you  foolish  boy  !     Don't  you  know  I'm  here  ? 
It's  all  right  now." 

26.  He  pushed  Paolo  first  on  one  side  and 
then  on  the  other,  and,  when  he  had  made  him 
open  his  eyes  and  stare  about  him,  the  great  Cas- 
per barked  again  in  his  loudest,  freest  tones.     A 
snow-storm  didn't  interfere  with  Jiis  voice.    Again 
and   again  he  barked,   as  if  he  were   shouting : 
"  Hello-o  !     I've  found  him !     Here  he  is !  " 

27.  Casper  had  not  barked  very  long  before 
two  men  came  toiling  through  the  storm.     One 
was  a  St.  Bernard  monk,  and  the  other  was  one 
of  the  men  with  whom  Paolo  had  started  out  in 


136  GRANDFATHER'S  STORIES. 

the  morning.  These  two  took  the  boy  by  the 
arms  and  raised  him  up.  They  shook  him,  and 
they  made  him  drink  a  little  brandy  that  the 
monk  had  with  him,  and  then  they  led  him  away 
between  them.  Casper  went  ahead,  so  that  it 
should  be  all  right.  They  walked  back  with 
great  difficulty  by  the  wTay  they  had  come,  and 
soon  reached  a  place  where  the  road  could  be  re- 
gained, at  a  point  some  distance  beyond  the  snow- 
drift. Then  they  pressed  on  to  the  convent. 

28.  The  four  men  had  been  overwhelmed  by 
the  snow-drift,  but,  as  they  were  considerably  in 
advance  of  Paolo,  the  greater  part  of  the  mass  of 
fresh  snow  seemed  to  pass  over  them  and  hurl 
itself  on  the  boy.  After  some  struggling,  the 
men  got  out  of  the  deep  snow.  They  missed  the 
boy,  but  could  not  tell  how  to  look  for  him  or 
save  him.  If  they  stopped,  they  were  afraid 
they  would  perish  themselves.  So  they  hurried 
on,  and  before  they  had  gone  very  far  they  met 
Casper  and  two  of  the  St.  Bernard  monks.  They 
told  their  story,  and  one  of  the  monks,  with  the 
dog,  started  down  the  mountain.  He  thought  the 
boy  might  be  saved.  The  youngest  of  the  four 
men  thought  he  would  go  too.  It  was  a  shanie 
to  desert  the  poor  boy  so  ! 


FOREIGN  STORIES.  137 

29.  As  they  hurried  along,  the  man  said,  "  If 
the  snow-drift  is  still  there,  we  shall  never  be  able 
to  get  around  it  or  into  it  to  find  the  boy."    "  Cas- 
per will  attend  to  that,"  said  the  monk.     He  be- 
lieved in  Casper.     And,  when  the  dog  reached 
the  snow-drift,  he  did  not  try  to  go  through  it. 
He  had  more  sense  than  that.     He  stopped ;  he 
seemed  to  be  considering  the  matter. 

30.  Then   he   turned   around   and   ran   back. 
The  monk  and  the  other  man  waited  to  see  what 
he   would   do.     When    Casper   reached   a   place 
where  the  bank  was  low,  he  leaped  down  from 
the  road  and  kept  on  down  the  mountain.     His 
idea  was  to  go  around  the  snow-drift.     Suddenly 
he  stopped  and  glared  through  the  falling  snow- 
flakes  that  went  whirling  this  way  and  that  by 
the  wind.     He  saw  something.     The  men,  who 
were   following   at  a  distance,  could  only  see  a 
little  way  through  the  storm. 

31.  Then,  with  a  sudden  bark,  Casper  rushed 
over  the  frozen  crusts  and  plunged  through  the 
deep  places,  bounding  and  leaping,  caring  not  for 
drift  or  storm,  until  he  found  the  boy  ! 

32.  For  he  was  a  snow-king. 

Frank  R.  Stockton.    From  u  St.  Nicholas." 


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